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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23685691">maybe we can be more than just cautionary tales</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/remuscgl/pseuds/remuscgl'>remuscgl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Baby Teddy Lupin, Bisexual Harry Potter, Drarry, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gay Draco Malfoy, Getting Together, Grief/Mourning, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Healing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Recovery, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Resolved Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension, harry and draco are basically teddy's cute gay uncles, i refuse to redeem lucius malfoy im sorry but not really, listen when i said slow burn i MEAN IT, so like. prepare yourself, tagged it explicit for later chapters to come</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:47:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>71,215</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23685691</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/remuscgl/pseuds/remuscgl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Overwhelmed by the lingering trauma of the war, a 21-year-old Harry Potter decides to resign from his Auror position three weeks into the job and disappears from the wizarding world. A year later, when all the anger, anxiety, and fear start turning to into an all-consuming sadness as he finally lets himself mourn the people he's lost, he decides to join a Muggle grief support group. When he arrives at his first meeting, he finds that Draco Malfoy had the same idea. </p><p>A story about recovery, forgiveness, and an unlikely friendship that grows into so much more.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, previous Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>134</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>284</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. no one's saying what's keeping us all awake at night (prologue)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>anyway this basically just a gratuitous slow burn drarry fic i've been meaning to write for a while! some things to consider before reading<br/>- when i say slow burn i mean s l o wwwwwwww burn. but i do think it's warranted. no dumb fights or unnecessary misunderstandings here. mostly just hesitations and doubts bc. you know. unresolved personal trauma and era-typical internalized homophobia :'( this fic is abt healing from the war and abuse almost as much as it's abt romance after all.<br/>- with that being said, i promise it's a happy ending. spoiler alert they do end up together. do u think i'd have the energy to write this much and not make it a happy ending? no i am not that powerful skdjfsk<br/>- if you're on team Draco Malfoy Should Not Be Redeemed At All i respect that but also...u should probably not read this???<br/>- tw: panic attacks, PTSD (they dont rly mention it by name bc the wizarding world sucks w this kinda thing so harry doesnt rly name it yet. but it's a given), mentions of family abuse,  mentions of homophobia</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This is the prologue chapter, offering glimpses into Harry's post-war life so far before the story truly starts.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>June 1998</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Harry couldn’t believe what he just did. </p><p>He stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at his reflection. It had been a month since the Battle of Hogwarts, but he was still skinny from his months on the run and he could still see the tiredness in his eyes, dark and heavy as if the war had just ended yesterday. </p><p>Lucius Malfoy had gotten a life sentence to Azkaban immediately after the war. But moments ago were the trials of Draco Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy. The shock on the Wizengamot’s faces when Harry had started to testify in their defense was etched in his mind as he splashed cold water onto his face. </p><p>He could still feel all the anger stirring in his head whenever he thought about the Malfoys, but he knew the war could have never been won if it weren’t for Narcissa. He also knew that everything Draco Malfoy had done was a result of years of abuse and coercion. Preparing for this trial, all Harry had been thinking of was the look on Malfoy’s face as he pointed a wand at Dumbledore at that tower, saying he had to do it or he’d get killed.</p><p>Harry closed his eyes, scanning himself for an ounce of regret. He couldn’t find any.</p><p>The door opened and Harry’s eyes flew open. Through the mirror, he could see Draco Malfoy standing behind him. </p><p>Malfoy looked like how he usually did. He was wearing an expensive set of emerald robes with silver trimmings. His hair was slicked back and looked almost stiff. However, on his face, instead of the sneer Harry had gotten used to the past seven years, were soft, scared eyes and a mouth slightly open, as if he was trying to say something but was too afraid to. </p><p>“What?” Harry asked, still looking at him through the reflection of the mirror. </p><p>Malfoy sighed. “I just wanted to thank you. You… You didn’t have to do that.”</p><p>“I know,” he muttered. He took one last look at Malfoy’s face and left. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>August 1998</b>
</p><p>Harry sat cross-legged next to Ginny on her bed, gripping the letter from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement tightly. He, Ron, and Hermione had opened the letters together earlier that morning, but he still couldn’t take his eyes off it. “Can you believe it?”</p><p>Ginny chuckled and elbowed him softly. “That they want the boy who saved the wizarding world to join the Auror training program? Yeah, that’s mad.”</p><p>Harry rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smirk at her sarcasm despite the rapid beating in his chest. It had taken her and the rest of the Weasley siblings a while to start joking around again after Fred. </p><p>“You alright?” she asked, sensing how tense he was. She planted a soft kiss on his shoulder. “This is what you’ve always wanted.”</p><p>Harry pictured having a wand pointed at him again, his life on the rope, or having someone else’s life depending on every move he made. He felt his heart fall to the bottom of his stomach at the familiarity of it.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah… I guess."</p><p>
  <b>September 1998</b>
</p><p>After his first day of Auror training, Harry found himself repeating the same words in his head. <em> You wanted this. You wanted this. You wanted this.  </em></p><p>There was nothing about the day that had been particularly difficult or alarming. It was just one orientation after the other. But, somehow, a nagging feeling that he couldn’t quite shake still clung to him. </p><p>He had told Ron, who had been eager to go home immediately and write Hermione about his first day, to go ahead right after the last orientation ended. Hermione had decided to go back to school to get her N.E.W.T.s, which came to no surprise to anyone. It was the only part of Auror training that Ron seemed to hate - being apart from her. Still, Harry watched his best friend gape in awe and excitement at everything their mentors said during the sessions. </p><p>Walking to lift, he spotted Draco Malfoy waiting by it. He considered just turning back, but Malfoy spun around and noticed him before he could decide to. Figuring it was too late, he kept walking towards him. </p><p>Harry nodded at him, unsure of how to greet him, and Malfoy nodded back. The doors of the lift slid open, and despite being repulsed at the thought of standing in a small, enclosed space with Malfoy, he stepped in. </p><p>Harry pressed the button with the number eight on it and turned to Malfoy as the usual female voice said, <em> “Level eight. The Ministry of Magic Atrium.”  </em></p><p>“Oh, er… Level eight as well,” Malfoy said.</p><p>“Right.”</p><p>The awkwardness of being near Malfoy already getting to him as the doors were closing, Harry spoke up again. “Do you… Do you work here now?”</p><p>Malfoy nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Stupid clerical stuff for the Wizengamot.”</p><p>Harry couldn’t help but snort, earning him a trademark Draco Malfoy sneer. “I can’t imagine you liking that.”</p><p>Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Not a lot of career opportunities for a former pureblood supremacist and the son of a convicted criminal.”</p><p>Caught off guard by the sheer self-awareness of everything that just came out of Malfoy’s mouth, Harry didn’t know how to respond.</p><p>The lift doors opened again, revealing a group of Ministry workers waiting outside. He felt uncomfortable as he noticed many of their faces light up at the sight of him.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>January 1999</b>
</p><p>“Don’t worry, mate. It's the first battle simulation session. It’s normal to freak out a little, yeah? Those flashbacks will be gone in no time. Swear.”</p><p>He was trying to listen to Ron, but he couldn’t hear anything clearly but the sound of his rapid breathing as he stared at the floor. They were sitting on a bench outside the training room, and Harry couldn’t bring himself to go back in to redo his turn. </p><p>He heard someone in the room call for Ron. Ron muttered an apology and patted Harry’s back reassuringly before leaving. </p><p>Harry was about to be thankful for the quiet when another voice interrupted his thoughts. “Stop going insane ‘bout it, I get them too.”</p><p>He looked up to see Malfoy with a pile of documents in his arms. Seeing him around had been a norm for Harry because Malfoy worked on the same floor as the Auror Office, but they had never actually spoken since his first day. </p><p>“What?”</p><p>Malfoy shrugged. “I overheard. The flashbacks. I get them too. All the time. Sometimes it’s when I’m using a particular spell or even when I’m just doing nothing. They’re terrible, aren’t they? Makes me want to avoid most of the places I’ve been in my life just because they might trigger them again. Sometimes you think they’re getting less intense and they start happening further apart, but out of nowhere, they get more vivid again. Bloody nightmare.”</p><p>Harry just stared at him, unnerved at how Malfoy had just stood there casually, describing the past eight months of Harry’s life with startling accuracy like it was no big deal. “It’s… It’s nothing, Malfoy.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>October 1999</b>
</p><p>Harry, sitting across from Hermione at the kitchen table of her and Ron’s new place, poked his friend with his fork. “Hey, ‘Mione…” </p><p>Hermione didn’t look up from the paperwork she was going through. She had only been at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures for a few months, but she was already swamped with work because of all the initiatives she was proposing. “Mhmm?”</p><p>“You’re friends with that girl who does administrative work for the Wizengamot, right?” Harry asked. </p><p>She nodded, still underlining and crossing out phrases on the scroll she was looking at. “Yeah, why?”</p><p>“Has she… Has she mentioned Malfoy? I haven’t seen him around lately and… she worked him with him so...”</p><p>“Yeah, apparently he returned to school to finish his last year and get his N.E.W.T.s…” Hermione trailed off and finally looked up, her brows furrowed. “Why are you suddenly interested?”</p><p>Harry shrugged and went back to eating his eggs. “Just curious.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>September 2001</b>
</p><p>Harry had always known he’d end up at St. Mungo’s eventually during his Auror career. He never expected, however, that it would happen just three weeks in. </p><p>He and his team had finally found the last of the Death Eaters who had managed to flee back in 1998. Dolohov. </p><p>Harry had actually been excited about this mission. The idea of taking down the last of them had felt like closure, especially because it was the man who killed Lupin. But when it was time to capture him, when he found himself across Dolohov, Harry had felt like he was frozen to the floor, arms unable to move. The next thing he remembered was waking up to the hospital ceiling.</p><p>Ron had visited earlier that day to assure him that they got Dolohov anyway, but Harry didn’t feel any less guilty. He had also told Harry that Dolohov hit him with the curse he hit Hermione with years ago in the Department of Mysteries. The curse that had required her to take several potions a day afterwards. “He must’ve hit you harder, though,” Ron had added. “The healer who was just in here told me you can go home tomorrow but you need to take a few weeks off work.”</p><p>Harry had found himself feeling relieved at the idea of not having to report to missions for next month before the guilt rushed in. He was the saviour of the wizarding world that everyone put on a pedestal, and here he was, thrilled at the idea of not being expected to protect and save anyone. </p><p>“Harry? You alright?” Ginny, who had been at his bedside reading magazines all afternoon, asked. She was still in her Quidditch robes from the practice that she left as soon as she heard Harry had been injured. “I mean, you know, given the whole hit-with-a-curse thing. You look like you’re thinking way too hard again.”</p><p>Harry gave Ginny a sad smile. He knew that if he could tell anyone, it would be her. How he feels suffocated the instant he steps into the Ministry. How a part of him believes that he will never escape the incessant nightmares and flashbacks. How the knowledge that everyone still expects him to be who he was years ago - a version of himself that was only forced into existence because of a war that suddenly became his responsibility - makes him feel paralyzed. How he wanted to quit.</p><p>In the moment, though, all he could manage was, “I don’t think I can do it anymore, Gin. ”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <b>December 2001</b>
</p><p>Looking at Ginny, Harry knew he had never hurt her this much before. </p><p>“That’s it? You’re miserable, so instead of talking to your best friends or to me you just disappear? You didn’t even stop by or reach out to us at all at Christmas.”</p><p>Harry didn’t know how to answer her. When Harry had resigned from his position, he hadn’t predicated how quickly he’d spiral. </p><p>He hadn’t been to any wizarding places. He had only responded to one of the dozens of letters Ron and Hermione had sent. If you asked him when was the last time he had even picked up his wand, he wouldn’t be able to answer.</p><p>Taking a break from the wizarding world was a good idea. No strangers gaping at him as he walked down the street. No Ministry officials guilting him into being part of big events for publicity. No more responsibilities. No more Boy Who Lived. </p><p>Still, he hadn’t predicted that cutting off that world, even for just barely three months, would have led him to find anything beyond complete isolation terrifying. All he ever did nowadays was stay at home and get lost in the days that started to blur together. He could no longer bring himself to interact with anything that reminded him of the war and who he had to be as a teenager, including everyone he loved. </p><p>Well, almost everyone.</p><p>Harry settled his sleeping godson onto the couch and covered him with a blanket before responding to Ginny. Andromeda had left him with Harry at Grimmauld Place earlier that day. Harry had been spending time with him every couple of days since he quit. He was the only one he couldn’t bear to stay away from. </p><p>He sat on the edge of the couch by Teddy’s head, running his fingers through the three-year-old’s hair. It was neon green today.</p><p>“I… I don’t know what to say.”</p><p>Ginny sat by Teddy’s feet, looking at the floor. “You know, when you first told me about everything that was going on with you… Why you wanted to quit… I understood. I knew you were hurting… So, I gave you the time and space that you asked for. But I thought it meant a couple weeks. Not months of me barely hearing from you.”</p><p>Harry shook his head. “I’m… I’m sorry, Gin. I just...Everything is still so overwhelming. I’m just so bloody terrified of everything that could remind me of all of it.”</p><p>“Including me,” she muttered, looking up at Harry. “So, what now?”</p><p>“I think… I just never allowed myself to heal and grow the way all of you did. All of you are doing what you love and actively working on all this hurt we have to fucking carry around. I never did that. I spent the past few years forcing myself to still be this heroic figure that the Ministry can use and that strangers can count on. But now, I just need to figure out who I am and how I can heal outside all of that.” </p><p>“But do you have to do it alone?” Ginny asked, her voice cracking. </p><p>Harry felt his chest get heavy as she said that, but he nodded anyway. Looking at her fight back tears, he could feel a knot in his throat as all the guilt and shame he had been repressing started engulfing him. Harry hated this. He hated that he was looking at the girl he loved with the knowledge that he couldn’t keep pretending this was still a relationship. </p><p>“I… I think so. For now, at least.”</p><p>Tears started to stream down her face as she nodded. “I really hope you’ll be okay, Harry.”</p><p>“Do you hate me?"</p><p>She smiled weakly. “I could never.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>August 2002</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Harry was better. Objectively, speaking.</p><p>He had started seeing Ron and Hermione from time to time again. He had even managed to attend a few Weasley gatherings, even with Ginny there. </p><p>But he still liked his solitude. He still only ever saw his friends once a month at the most, which was usually when Hermione and Ron would force him out Grimmauld Place. Whenever Ron managed to drag him to the Weasleys for someone’s birthday, he still felt welcomed like family, but it was also too overwhelming. </p><p>Still, he was better. Sort of. </p><p>He no longer felt paralyzed at loud, sudden sounds, and he no longer had trouble breathing whenever he found himself too deep into his memories of the war. Yet, there was still a heavy weight he was carrying every day in his chest that wouldn’t go away and his wand had been stored away in a cupboard since he resigned as if magic itself was the direct cause of all this pain.</p><p>Lately, Harry’s dreams have been different too. His nightmares of running across Hogwarts as he felt bodies of students brushing his feet or of jets of green light hurtling towards him were replaced with what seemed like false memories. He couldn’t remember specifics; most of them were arbitrary, fleeting moments of different people. His parents. Sirius. Lupin. Dumbledore. Fred. Tonks.</p><p>“It’s called grief, sweetheart,” Andromeda had told him matter-of-factly. “You’re finally letting yourself mourn.”</p><p>He and Andromeda had gotten close. They used to just talk in brief, polite exchanges whenever one of them would drop Teddy off, but in the past year, Andromeda had managed to get past his walls.</p><p>Harry couldn’t place how she did this when he was never close to being this transparent with his best friends anymore. Maybe it was because he never really got to know her until after the war, so she never reminded him of his life back then. Whatever it was, he liked her company and trusted her. </p><p>Which is why she had managed to convince him to go to a Muggle grief support group. She had told him that Ted, her Muggle-born husband, used to go some throughout the years because of the friends they lost in the First War. <em> And if you’re so adamant about disappearing from the wizarding world and not accepting help from anyone in it, then at least try this out, </em>she had added.</p><p>He parked his motorbike by the center where the meeting was going to take place and walked into the building. Harry didn’t know what he was expecting, but he was still caught off guard by the bright yellow walls and the bulletin boards advertising classes for kids. Before he could worry about the possibility that he might be in the wrong building, he spots a door with a schedule taped to it. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b> <em>Grief, Loss, and Bereavement Support Group Meeting </em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>7:00 PM - 8:00 PM</em> </b>
</p><p> </p><p>Thinking about what magical abilities Andromeda must have had to convince him to talk to a bunch of strangers about his dead parents, Harry let himself in. </p><p>He took cautious steps toward the circle that was already formed in the middle of the room, which seemed to double as a dance studio. </p><p>An older woman - probably the facilitator, Harry figured - craned her neck to take a look at him. She shot him an encouraging smile and waved him over. “Don’t be shy, love. We were just about to begin." </p><p>Harry took a seat as the facilitator started to speak. He scanned the circle, trying to get a feel of what he should expect from these people. </p><p>Then, he stopped, his eyes locking on one person in particular: a familiar blond-haired boy he thought he would never see again.</p><p>Hearing his heart pounding in his ears and forcing his arse to stay glued to the chair before he could stand up and bolt out of the room, Harry made a mental note not to listen to Andromeda Tonks again. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. can’t look back at broken pieces</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Draco Malfoy didn’t have a good childhood. In the public, Lucius had been a doting father who was proud of his son. It was never like that whenever his family was behind closed doors or beyond everyone else’s earshot. </p><p>The first time it had happened was when Draco was eight. He had asked his father what <em> exactly </em> was wrong with Muggle-borns. <em> I don’t understand. What did they do? </em> Lucius Malfoy had completely ignored the innocence and genuine curiosity of his child and smacked him across the face before sending him to his room without dinner. The next day, he had only allowed Draco out <em> on the assumption that you don’t ask more stupid questions about Mudbloods. </em></p><p>It started happening constantly after that. Getting beat up after Draco had accidentally knocked over an expensive vase. Having painful hexes thrown at him after he had hesitated to hit Dobby on his father’s behalf. Being pulled into a corner and hearing his father calling him a <em> worthless poofter </em> when Lucius had caught him looking at a bloke a certain way for a few seconds too long.</p><p>It had happened so often that each instance had blurred together for Draco. He no longer knew which beating happened at a certain time. He couldn’t even remember when his father had first used the Cruciatus Curse on him. What he could remember, though, was the pain and the fear. Too vividly, at that. </p><p>So, almost a year after Lucius’ death, Draco still didn’t know what to feel. There was still so much anger in him, but there was also sadness. It felt like obligatory sadness, as if there was a voice in his head telling him <em> well, yes, but he was still your father, after all. </em> Nonetheless, the sadness was there, and he carried it with him every day with the rest of the tangled up emotions he was left with. </p><p>Which is why Draco Malfoy had been going to these meetings for a few weeks now. It was hard to participate at first because how exactly was he supposed to talk to Muggles about experiencing abuse for 10 years to the point that he was coerced to be a pawn in a magical genocide? Then, he realized many of the people in the group were grieving people who weren’t particularly saints either. That many of them were also angry or conflicted.</p><p>Besides, in Muggle groups, no one would recognize him. </p><p>Until today. </p><p><em> That can’t be him, </em> Draco thought to himself as the latest addition to the group settled in the circle. <em> Is it? </em></p><p>He <em> looked </em> like Potter. The man had the same glasses and green eyes, the same dark brown skin, the same unkempt hair. Still, it was hard to tell. It had been so long. </p><p>Then, they locked eyes. And Draco wasn’t unsure anymore.The shock on the man’s face and the polite half-nod that Draco recognized from those awkward hallway encounters at the Ministry? Definitely Potter. </p><p>Before Draco could decide whether or not to leave the room while he could, the facilitator spoke up. “So, I think we can begin now.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
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</p><p>Draco didn’t share anything during the entire session. He could hardly even focus on what other people were saying. Draco had always been an attentive participant in these meetings, but he couldn’t be today. Not when Harry Potter was sitting across the circle. </p><p>He couldn’t take his eyes off him. Potter looked different. His hair was longer and curlier, as if he had stopped attempting to brush it or have it cut. He had also grown a stubble. He wasn’t even skinny and lanky anymore. The hoodie he was wearing would’ve been baggy on him three years ago, but he’s put on some muscle since then. Not being on the run anymore and three years of non-stop Auror training would do that to you, Draco supposed. </p><p>Draco didn’t know what Potter had been up to since then. Last he saw him was barely a year into his training. To his knowledge, no one has really seen Potter since the Dolohov arrest. So, what was he doing in the same bereavement support group as Draco?</p><p>“Before we end, are there any first-timers who would like to share? We always set aside time for any newcomers,” the facilitator asked, snapping Draco out of his thoughts. She was gesturing around the circle, but Draco knew she meant for Potter to speak up. He was the only newcomer today. </p><p>“I… Er… Yeah, okay,” Potter mumbled as soon as he figured that out. “My name is Harry.”</p><p>Draco couldn’t bring himself to be part of the chorus of “Hi Harry” that followed. This was all too bizarre. He couldn’t even remember the last time he said that name out loud.</p><p>“I… It’s going to be hard to explain why I’m here. Or at least why I’m here <em> now </em>,” Potter started. </p><p>Draco noticed that his voice was a bit deeper now. Or maybe it just sounded like it was because of how laidback it was. He was too used to Potter raising his voice, always on the offensive.</p><p>“Because I <em> have </em> lost many people,” he continued. “But it’s been years. My parents died when I was a baby. So, I was raised in an abusive home without an actual family. In my teens, I met new people I could call family. They took care of me. A couple of them were my parents’ best friends… But they… Er… I also lost them… Most of them within a few years of me even knowing they existed. </p><p>The last person I lost died around four years ago. So, it’s strange doing this, seeking support and everything, now. I lived a pretty hectic life. For a long time, a lot of people depended on me to be someone I was never ready to be. So, I became that person. It was only last year when I decided that… That I felt like I could step back. For the first time, I felt like I could take some time for myself without the world - or, er, the people around me, I mean - going up in flames. </p><p>And that isolation… There’s been ups and downs. I expected that. But I didn’t really expect to be confronted with all the grief I’d been suppressing. I wasn’t even aware I was suppressing any grief at all. I thought I <em> had </em> dealt with it, as if healing just came automatically with time. I guess I was just…ignoring it all this time. So, I figured I’d actually… do something about it this time.”</p><p><br/>
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</p><p>After the meeting, as Draco was exiting the building, he saw Potter a few yards away from him standing next to a motorbike. He felt weird, having heard all that from him today. He would bet that Potter wouldn’t have said all that with Draco in the room if he hadn’t been desperate for support and recovery.</p><p>Before he was aware of what he was about to do, Draco yelled “Oi, Potter!” from where he was standing. </p><p>Potter turned around, confusion on his face, as Draco walked up to him. “I haven’t heard that in years.”</p><p>Draco snorted. “Ah, well, I don’t think we ever figured out how to properly greet each other.”</p><p>“Guess so,” Potter replied, looking the slightest bit amused. “This is… This is weird.”</p><p>Draco sighed. “Yeah, that’s… That’s what I wanted to talk about. There’s an alternate timetable for the group. I know it must be uncomfortable sharing all that when someone you know is in the room. Especially when that person is me.”</p><p>“I’ll just look for another -”</p><p>“This is the first one I’ve found without any witches or wizards who ended up recognizing me, Potter. It’s also the only one that doesn’t have any wizarding neighborhoods or shops nearby. Trust me, you’re not going to find another one you can go to anytime soon,” Draco insisted. “There are sessions on Sunday mornings as well, I think I’ll go to those instead. You can keep going to this one.”</p><p>“Oh… Okay. Yeah, thanks.”</p><p>Draco shrugged. “No problem.”</p><p>Silence hung around them; Draco didn’t know what to say next. Frankly, he was even surprised that they could have a proper conversation. They had learned to be sort of civil to one another when they worked for the Ministry, but it was the first time he didn’t feel like he had to get ready to dodge a hex Potter might throw at any minute. Which he figured he deserved. </p><p>“Well, I have to get going,” Potter finally said, mounting the motorbike and starting the engine. </p><p>Draco raised his eyebrows. “<em> That’s </em>yours?”</p><p>Just the image of Potter straddling a motorbike with such ease was jarring for Draco. He couldn’t quite place why that was.</p><p>Potter nodded. “Yeah. It’s… It’s a long story.”</p><p>Before Draco could articulate what to reply, Potter was gone. As he watched the bike disappear around the corner, Draco shook his head. This was definitely not how he expected his Tuesday night to go.</p><p><br/>
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</p><p>“What do you <em> mean </em> you forgot that the group you gave me was the same group Draco Malfoy is in?!” Harry was sitting on Andromeda Tonks’ kitchen table the next morning, trying not to be upset at the lack of concern she was showing at the utter strangeness of the situation. “When are you ever even talking to him?!”</p><p>With a wave of her wand, the dishes in her sink were scrubbed clean in a matter of seconds before they flew back to the rack. She turned around, with a hand on her hip and frown on her face that made Harry miss Molly. “Every week or so. Why? Also, get off my table.”</p><p>Harry shook his head before hopping off the table, trying to gauge whether or not she was joking. “You’re killing me, Andromeda.”</p><p>Her name was a mouthful, but calling her anything else didn’t feel right. Her last name was what he used to call Tonks. He didn’t want to call her ‘Dromeda either; that’s what Ted used to call her.</p><p>“I told you. I’ve started talking to Narcissa again after Lucius passed away,” she said, nonchalantly.</p><p>Harry narrowed his eyes. “I thought that just meant that you both met up once a month and wrote each other."</p><p>She nodded. “It does. But, I’ve grown quite a bit close to Draco. Got along with him more than I did with Narcissa when I first visited them all those months ago.”</p><p>Harry couldn’t remember the last time someone in his life called Malfoy <em> Draco. </em> “...Why didn’t you tell me about it?”</p><p>“You never asked about how my dinners with the Malfoys went, Harry,” she said with a sympathetic smile. “Nor did I think you’d like to hear about them without you bringing it up first. I know it bothers you, despite you acting like it doesn’t for my sake.”</p><p>“Well...Why Malfoy more than your sister then?”</p><p>Andromeda shrugged. “He reminded me of Sirius.”</p><p>Harry scoffed. “You’re joking, right? Have you <em> met </em>Sirius?”</p><p>Raising her eyebrows, she leaned back on her counter and crossed her arms. “Yes. He’s my cousin, remember? That means I knew him even back when he was still an infuriating little twat going around during family dinners, bragging about how he would <em> never </em> be friends with someone who isn’t ‘pure of blood.’ Sound familiar?”</p><p>“That’s not Sirius.”</p><p>“Yes it was. When he was a child. Before Hogwarts. Before your father and Remus,” she replied. Harry knew she left out Peter on purpose. “I was like that too, then I met Ted and my other friends. We were lucky, Harry. We met good people who helped us grow into ourselves rather than just the people our family was making us become.”</p><p>“That still doesn’t excuse the things Malfoy did,” Harry insisted, but the way Malfoy looked the night Dumbledore died started to flood his head as he said it. The terror on his face, the temptation when Dumbledore offered to welcome him to their side, the pain in his eyes. Harry was getting less and less convinced by the words he was telling Andromeda. </p><p>“It doesn’t. Of course not. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t worthy or capable of redemption,” she said. “You know he’s an apprentice at St. Mungos now? That’s why he went back to get his N.E.W.T.s. He specializes in helping Muggle-born kids who get injured from their own magic acting up in dangerous ways before they turn 11. Treating them, orienting the parents and helping them understand, helping the kids cope with their new lives…”</p><p>“Oh, I didn’t…”</p><p>“When they sold the Manor,” she continued, “he donated everything he earned from the sale to that program Kingsley and Hermione started a few years back. The one that helps families affected by the war.”</p><p>“She would have told me…”</p><p>Andromeda shook his head. “It was an anonymous donation. I think only Kingsley knew. Draco didn’t even want me to know, but I stumbled upon the papers when I was helping Narcissa clean up. ”</p><p>Harry, unsure of what to say because he thought he would be the one lecturing Andromeda about Malfoy today, stayed quiet and sat down on one of the kitchen stools.</p><p>Probably sensing the confusion raging in Harry’s head, Andromeda sighed. “Look, Harry. Every one of us who grew up with those kinds of parents are the same. Me, Sirius, Regulus… Draco… We were all just little kids who were physically and emotionally abused until we were completely brainwashed to hate Muggle-borns. And that isn’t acceptable, of course. That’s why I’m finding it hard to completely make amends with my sister. She was complicit in all those crimes despite being an adult who was expected to think for herself. </p><p>But Draco… The moment he was freed from his abusive father, he made the necessary changes in his life. And he was just barely 18 then. You kids that grew up during the war think that who you are by the time you’re 17 is who you are going to be forever. I don’t blame you for that. You all had to grow up so fast. But none of you remember that you were still children at the end of the day. Isn’t who you become after that more important?”</p><p>Harry fiddled with the cuffs of his jumper, feeling paralyzed by how much sense she was making. “...You practiced that speech, didn’t you?”</p><p>Andromeda hit him lightly on the knee with a kitchen towel, smirking. “Well, I’ve gathered from what everyone has told me that you’re always close to sending hexes flying everywhere at the mention of Draco. So, I figured I had to prepare for when you find out that he’s always over for dinner.”</p><p>Harry rolled his eyes, but he could feel his tension easing away. He tended to forget that the war was further into his past than it felt and that forgiveness and perspective were vital aspects of people’s healing that he hasn’t gotten the hang of yet. </p><p>“I’m still sorry for recommending you that group though,” Andromeda added. “I completely forgot that I heard about that particular one from Draco a few weeks back. Was it really that awkward?”</p><p>Harry chuckled. “You’re asking if being emotionally vulnerable and sharing my issues with Draco Malfoy and nine strangers was that awkward?”</p><p>Andromeda patted him on the leg, looking apologetic, but Harry could tell she was also holding back a laugh. It was hard not to miss Tonks when Andromeda had the same sparkle in her eyes when she was amused. </p><p>Before Andromeda could reply, they saw Teddy’s head peeking out from the kitchen doorway. “You said Uncle Dwaco?” the boy asked, yawning and still clutching the stuffed puppy he slept with every night. </p><p>Harry smiled and got out of his seat to scoop Teddy up. “Hey kiddo.”</p><p>As soon as he got settled in Harry’s arms, Teddy fell back into sleep on his godfather's shoulder. </p><p>Harry turned to Andromeda. “<em>Uncle Dwaco?</em> <em>How </em>has this not come up before!?”</p><p>Andromeda laughed, enjoying the bewilderment on Harry’s face too much for his liking. </p><p><br/>
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  <em> James and Lily Potter were sitting on the couch, their one-year-old being cradled in his mother’s arms. The flickering light of the fireplace was illuminating their faces.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He curled his fingers underneath Lily’s chin, and she beams at him. “What is it, James?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “It’s your birthday in a few hours, love.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> She chuckled. “Yeah. Can’t wait to see everyone tomorrow.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Neither can they. Sirius even prepared a dance number.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Lily rolled her eyes. “Of course he did.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> James shrugged. “The perks of marrying me.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Laughing, she shook her head. “Idiots.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Smiling, James tucks a lock of Lily’s red hair behind her ear. “I love you.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I love you too.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Can’t believe you’re turning 22.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Me neither.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Harry woke up breathing hard, hands grasping at his sheets. He sat up, throwing his blanket off the bed; it had felt like he was being suffocated by it.</p><p>Bringing his knees to his chest and burying his face in his hands, he tried to steady his breathing. He felt like there was a pit in his chest. He took deeper breaths, as if whatever that emptiness was could be filled that way.</p><p>He looked up and glanced at the calendar on his bedside table. </p><p>Harry always had dreams of his parents that felt like false memories. Them holding him after his birth. His first birthday. His parents guiding him as he took his first steps. He knew none of them were real; there was no way he could remember any of that. Still, no detail ever came up that was enough to keep him from pretending they actually happened. Until now.</p><p>His parents never got anywhere close to their 22nd birthdays. But Harry turned 22 a few weeks ago. He was officially older than his parents ever got to be. </p><p>The thought made him sick to his stomach. </p><p>He jumped out of bed and started pacing back and forth the room. Harry had always felt like he had barely got to live his life. How much more his parents? It wasn’t fair. </p><p>Harry looked at the mirror and thought about what Andromeda said a few days ago about how every kid who grew up during the war forgot how young they were. She was right. He could easily fit into groups of Muggles - seniors at universities - he’d always see drinking and partying towards the end of the week. He was still so young. His <em> parents </em> were so young. And Harry was starting to live a whole other part of life that his parents will never experience.</p><p>He hated knowing that. It felt like the pit in his chest was getting deeper. </p><p>He had been older than Fred’s age when he died for over a year already. In three years, he’ll be older than Tonks. Then it will just keep happening. He’ll get older and older, then he’ll surpass Sirius. Then Remus. Is this what milestones are supposed to feel like when you survive a war?</p><p><br/>
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</p><p>Harry couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t be alone with his thoughts. The need to share or talk about it wasn’t even there; he just needed to be around people who were experiencing this much grief too. </p><p>As he sat down in the circle, he caught Malfoy’s eye and immediately felt guilty. It was the Sunday morning meeting, the one Harry said he’d stay clear of. He shot him an apologetic look. </p><p>Malfoy sighed and looked away. He didn’t look angry. He just looked tired.</p><p><br/>
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</p><p>“Everything about her was just… evil,” the woman next to Harry was telling the group. “She manipulated everyone around her and made sure no one believed me when I told them about how she was raising me. But now that she passed away… I don’t know what to feel. There's sadness there, but I don’t understand it. Does that make me weak? Am I regressing? Am I back to making excuses for her? It’s… It’s a lot.”</p><p>Harry expected the facilitator to speak up, but instead, he heard Malfoy’s voice from across the circle. </p><p>“Of course it doesn’t mean that,” he said, with a reassuring tone in his voice that sounded so foreign to Harry. “Death is just… It’s strange that way. We’re people, and we’re conditioned to feel sad when it happens. Because it’s still a loss, isn’t it? For many people, it’s because they lost a loved one or a hero. But sometimes it happens to people we hate too. Maybe because we feel a different loss.”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“A loss of opportunity for closure or confrontation. Or the loss of someone toward whom we could direct all this pain and trauma they caused us, so now we have to carry it with us, unsure of what to do with all these feelings. We still have the right to grieve that. That doesn’t make you a bad person.”</p><p>The woman chuckled through her tears. “Thank you. That… That makes sense. It’s just unfair. I finally allowed myself to despise her. Then, she suddenly drops dead and the emotions get less clear again. She was a bad person, but somehow, I’m the one stuck with all this hate and bitterness and sadness.”</p><p>Malfoy smiled sadly and shook his head. “Yeah, I… I get that. I still hate the person that I lost. But now, being angry at him feels strange. What am I supposed to do with this rage and bitterness now?”</p><p><br/>
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</p><p>When the meeting ended, Harry found himself waiting by the stairway that led up to the building’s entrance. He wasn’t entirely sure why until Malfoy started going down the steps before stopping as he saw Harry.</p><p>“Potter.”</p><p>“Malfoy. I… I’m sorry for still going to this one,” was all Harry could manage.</p><p>“It’s… It’s alright, I guess,” Malfoy said, keeping his hands in his pockets and looking down. “I… I actually didn’t mind, which is… strange.”</p><p>Harry nodded, but he didn’t actually understand why he didn’t mind as much anymore either. “Your father, right?”</p><p>Malfoy looked up at him. “What?”</p><p>“What you were saying in there. You were talking about Lucius?”</p><p>He frowned. “You know, if you aren’t buying that I actually hate my father and everything he did… Or that I regret everything <em> I </em>did because of him... That really isn’t my problem.”</p><p>He started to continue down the steps, but Harry grabbed him by the arm. </p><p>Malfoy stopped in his tracks and turned around to face Harry.</p><p>“No, that’s not it. I <em> do </em> believe you. That’s… That’s what I wanted to say,” Harry said with an earnestness that even he was surprised by. </p><p>Malfoy looked at him quizzically. </p><p>“I believe you,” Harry repeated. “I believe that you’re not who you were years ago. And I know about all the good you’re doing now… I just wanted to say that. For what it’s worth.” </p><p>Malfoy gave him a small smile. “You’ve always been so dramatic, Potter.”</p><p>Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to be nice here.”</p><p>“I know, I know…” Malfoy said. “Thanks.”</p><p>Harry nodded. “I’ll see you around.”</p><p>“I guess....” Malfoy said. “Er, Potter?”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>Malfoy glanced at Harry’s hand. With blood rushing to his face, Harry realized he was still holding the other boy by the arm.</p><p>“Right. Sorry,” Harry muttered as he let go.</p><p>Malfoy chuckled before turning around and walking away. </p><p><br/>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. this is a new thing (one more drink, let's get to the bottom of it)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Here you go,” Harry said cheerily as he handed a copy of <em> Meadowlands </em> to a customer along with her change. </p><p>The girl grinned at him as she slipped her purchase into her rucksack. Harry expected her to turn around and leave, but she just leaned forward on the counter separating them, her eyes sparkling. </p><p>At this point, Harry would usually worry that she had recognized him. It’s not like he put any effort into disguising himself other than hiding his scar and letting his hair and stubble grow longer than he used to. He mostly just depended on the fact that it was a tiny, backstreet bookshop tucked between two low-key family-owned businesses far enough from wizarding neighborhoods. </p><p>This girl, however, was undoubtedly a Muggle. She had entered the store talking on her mobile and was wearing a jumper with a university logo on it. </p><p>“Can I… help you with anything else?”</p><p>“This bookshop is just the most charming thing,” she practically cooed. “Have you worked here long?”</p><p>“Oh, er, sort of…”</p><p>“I should’ve been coming here all this time then.” </p><p>He smiled awkwardly. As Harry thought of ways to make her leave while she kept talking to him, he spotted movement behind one of the bookshelves. He felt relief as he realized there was another customer in the shop.</p><p>“Ah, I’m sorry, but if you don’t need anything else, I really should assist -”</p><p>Before he could finish the sentence, the customer stepped out from the bookshelves and started making his way to the counter. He didn’t know what Draco Malfoy was doing here, but he found himself feeling grateful anyway. </p><p>“Hi, sir, can I help you?” he asked, pointedly ignoring the girl now.</p><p>Malfoy looked up and saw that it was Harry. He looked at Harry in bewilderment, and then proceeded to glance around the bookshop as if checking if he was in the right place. </p><p>“Er… Yes… I think so?” Malfoy said, looking back at Harry. </p><p>Harry smiled politely at the girl who was now biting her lip and tilting her head to the side. “If you’ll excuse me…”</p><p>“Oh sure, of course,” the girl said giggling. “We can talk some other time.” She slid the receipt, with a phone number now scrawled on it, across the counter and turned around to leave.</p><p>As soon as the bookshop door closed, Malfoy started laughing. “Even in the Muggle world, everyone flirts with you,” he said, picking up the receipt with the phone number on it. </p><p>Ignoring Malfoy’s comment, he grabbed the receipt from Malfoy’s hand before tossing it in the dustbin.</p><p>Malfoy raised his eyebrows. “What, not good enough for the Boy Who Lived?”</p><p>“You know, just because I said I believed you were a good person now, doesn’t mean you’re any less irritating.”</p><p>Malfoy chuckled, leaning against the counter. “Ouch.”</p><p>Harry rolled his eyes. “What are you doing here?”</p><p>“I was looking for this old Potions book,”  Malfoy said, straightening. “But now that I’m here…” he murmured, gesturing to the shelves and shelves of Muggle books.</p><p>“Oh, what’s it called? We have a lot of non-Muggle stuff in the backroom. The owner, Mr. Thornton, has this personal collection of rare books that he wants to get rid of.”</p><p>“<em> Cornbush’s Potionmaking for Magical Maladies </em>,” he said as his eyes darted around the shop again. “This is owned by a wizard?”</p><p>“Squib,” Harry corrected. “His parents were book collectors who travelled a lot. He moved here from the States three years ago,” he continued, gesturing for Malfoy to follow him. “Anyway, yeah, I think we have that one.”</p><p>They walked down a narrow hallway behind the counter until they were led to a cramped room with a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf on every wall. </p><p>Harry scanned the books that were eye-level to him, his fingers brushing the spines. He stopped at a thick, leather-bound book with the title embossed on it in gold. He slid the book out, heavy in his hands, and turned around to give it to Malfoy.</p><p>“Ah, yeah…,” Malfoy murmured as he ran his hand across the cover. “Flourish and Blotts didn’t have it, so... Thanks.”</p><p>Harry leaned back on the bookshelf, crossing his arms. “How did you even find this place? The only wizards we get here are Mr. Thornton’s family friends and business partners.”</p><p>“Andromeda suggested it,” Malfoy said. “I guess I fell into that trap.”</p><p>“Ah, so she’s been giving you the same ‘you two have so much more in common than you think and should be friends’ spiel as well?”</p><p>“Yeah, pretty much.”</p><p>Harry shook his head in disbelief at how much Andromeda thought she needed to help a couple of 22-year-olds make friends. </p><p>“Well,” Harry said, absentmindedly ruffling his hair, “If my godson is already going around calling you Uncle <em> Dwaco, </em> we might as well attempt to get along.”</p><p>“What a nightmare,”  Malfoy replied instantly, but there was a smile playing at the corner of his lips. </p><p>
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</p><p>A week later, with a twist and a sharp <em> crack </em>, Draco Malfoy found himself in the parking lot of the community center. He was late. Really late. He should have been here half an hour ago.</p><p>He walked up to the building, glancing at his watch between strides as if that would make him any less late. Just as he was about to jog up the stairs leading up to the entrance, he looked up and noticed Harry Potter sitting on the topmost step. </p><p>Potter was staring at his hands. His brows were furrowed, and his shoulders were heaving as if he was out of breath. </p><p>Draco climbed the steps, and it was only when he sat next to him that Potter realized he was there.</p><p>“Malfoy.”</p><p>Draco only had the moonlight and the glow of the outdoor lamps, but he could see how glassy Potter’s eyes were. </p><p>“Are you alright?”</p><p>Potter let out a bitter laugh. “I- I’m fantastic.” Draco could hear the shakiness in his voice.</p><p>Draco felt awkward. He knew that Potter probably wanted him to get up and leave him alone. But, for some reason, he felt like he couldn’t just do that. </p><p>“Are you alright?” he repeated.</p><p>Potter shook his head and closed his eyes tight. “It’s… It’s nothing. I just don’t think I can go in there. I tried, but… Not tonight.”</p><p>“I get that sometimes,” Draco offered. Did it sound helpful? Draco didn’t know how to do this. It came naturally to him with patients at the hospital. But sitting in the dark with Harry Potter was not his territory.</p><p>“You don’t have to do this,” Potter whispered, his eyes gazing into the distance now.</p><p>“I… Yeah. Sorry. I’ll just- ”</p><p>Before Draco could get up, he noticed something glinting in Potter’s hand. It was a mirror shard reflecting light. The shard’s edges were covered in something dark and liquid. Draco squinted a little, just enough for him to see it was blood, coming from a long and deep gash on his palm.</p><p>“What the-” Draco hastily took the mirror shard out of Potter’s hands and placed it on the step below them. “What <em>happened?</em>”</p><p>“I accidentally cut myself,” Potter mumbled, eyeing his hands again. </p><p>“Yeah, I can see that,” Draco said, exasperated. He reached out and cradled Potter’s palm in his, taking out his wand with his other hand. </p><p>Potter seemed to snap out of his trance and looked right at the other boy. It was as if he didn’t fully fathom that there was someone really there with him until Draco touched his hand. Draco was too familiar with this from interacting with patients. Potter was probably coming down from an anxiety attack.</p><p> “No, no, it’s alright. You don’t have to-”</p><p>Ignoring Potter’s protests, Draco repeatedly circled the tip of his wand over the wound, saying an incantation under his breath. The cut closed and dried slowly until all was left was a dark scar. With a last wave of his wand, the remaining blood slipped off Potter’s palm and disappeared in mid-air. “The scar should fade by tomorrow morning.”</p><p>“Thanks. I guess you aren’t the worst after all,” Potter said, with a small smile. </p><p>“I’m touched.” Draco felt less tense now that Potter was starting to sound like himself again. He released his grasp on Potter’s hand. As their hands brushed when he pulled back, Draco felt something stir in his chest. It was probably nothing. </p><p>“The shard… Er… It’s from a mirror that Sirius gave me. I haven’t worn this coat in a while and forgot it was in the pocket. Haven’t thought about it in months. So, when I felt it and accidentally cut myself on it on the way here, I...I sort of…”</p><p>“Freaked out?”</p><p>Potter nodded slowly. “Yeah.”</p><p>Draco didn’t know why he was telling him all this, but he remained quiet, waiting for him to speak again. He watched Potter’s eyes fixating on the shard, which was still lying on the step below them.</p><p>“That mirror…” Potter continued. “It could have saved him, you know.”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>Potter sighed and picked up the shard. Carefully, this time. He rubbed his thumb against the surface before putting back into his pocket. “Nothing. Nevermind.”</p><p>Draco wanted to press on but a shrill ring interrupted the quiet. It was coming from Potter’s bag. </p><p>Potter straightened, eyes now alert. He pulled out a small, rectangular contraption with buttons on it. It was a mobile phone. Draco recognized it as soon as he got a clear view. More and more of his Muggle-born and Half-Blood patients were starting to have them.</p><p>Potter pressed a button and brought the mobile to his ear. “Andromeda? ... What? ...Oh. Oh, no.”</p><p>Draco perked up, his brow furrowing at the worry in Potter’s voice. Was something wrong with Andromeda?</p><p>“Yeah, yeah. Of course. I’ll be there,” Potter assured, before ending the call and getting up. </p><p>Draco followed closely as Potter went down the steps. “What was that? Is she okay?”</p><p>“She’s alright,” Potter said without slowing down. “Her nephew- the kid of Ted’s brother - got in a minor car accident. Nothing serious, but he has to spend the night in a hospital and his parents are out of town, so she has to stay with him.”</p><p>Knowing Andromeda was safe filled Draco with relief. He hadn’t expected to get along with her. She was almost twice his age after all. But Draco never really had any family that he liked. “Who’s watching Teddy?”</p><p>“That’s why I’m leaving.” </p><p>The two boys arrived at the spot where Potter’s motorbike was parked. Draco looked at him incredulously.</p><p>“You’re joking, right? You were a mess two minutes ago.”</p><p>“Gee, thanks. You always know how to lighten up a room.”</p><p>“I meant that there’s no way you’re in the right state to drive that <em> thing </em>. Besides, it’ll take you an hour to get there. Just Apparate and come back for the bike tomorrow.”</p><p>“I… I don’t have my wand with me,” he stammered.</p><p>“You <em> what? </em>”</p><p>“I don’t have- ” </p><p>“I heard you.” Draco took a deep breath. “Fine. Grab my arm.”<br/><br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>As soon as they found themselves on the house’s porch, the door flew open. Andromeda already had Muggle clothes on and a bag in her hand. </p><p>“Harry, thank y-” she cut herself off as she realized Draco was standing next to him. “Oh, Draco, sweetheart, you’re here,” she cooed, embracing him.</p><p>“Well I’m not an <em> idiot </em> who doesn’t keep his wand with him. So, I had to do the Apparating,” Draco replied, hugging her back.</p><p>He could hear Potter muttering a retort under his breath. </p><p>“Well, I should get going…” Draco said as Andromeda released him.</p><p>“Oh, nonsense! You should stay the night as well. Teddy misses you, and you were going to come over tomorrow morning anyway.”</p><p>“Oh, no, it’s alright -”</p><p>“I’m sure Harry will love the help,” Andromeda insisted, looking pointedly at Potter. </p><p>“I’ve been babysitting Teddy alone for four years,” Potter said, exasperated. “And shouldn’t Teddy be asleep by now?”</p><p>“Well, yeah but… I don’t know, bond! You two need friends your own age too, you know.”</p><p>Draco rolled his eyes, realizing that Andromeda was worrying about him too much again. It’s not that Draco didn’t have any friends. He’s met many new people since he started working at the hospital. It’s just that he just preferred being alone nowadays. “Andro-”</p><p>Before he could protest, there was a loud <em> crack </em> and Andromeda was gone.</p><p>Draco looked at Potter.</p><p>Potter shrugged. “I mean… It’s too late to go to that meeting anyway.” </p><p>“It’s alright…”</p><p>“No, really. Come in for a drink, at least. You patched my wound up and got me here. I owe you.”</p><p>“You owe me alcohol from Andromeda’s pantry?”</p><p>Grinning, Potter gestured for him to come in. “Well, she does have excellent taste in drinks.”</p><p>Draco laughed, before stepping into the house. “Fine.”</p><p>Potter followed and closed the door behind him. He took off his coat and hung it on the rack by the door. “I’ll just go check if Teddy’s asleep first before getting us something to drink.”</p><p>“Oh, sure,” Draco replied as he watched Potter jog up the stairs. </p><p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>ty for reading! im almost done with the next chapter and it will be up before the weekend!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. you should stop me there, but i keep on talking</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>a chatty chapter about feelings, vulnerability, and a start of an unlikely friendship</p>
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    <p>Draco looked around Andromeda’s house as he hung up his coat. He’d been here many times before, but it suddenly felt different with Potter there. </p><p>It was strange that seeing him in that meeting weeks ago was so bizarre when Draco had already known that the people who lived in this house tied their lives together. The idea that maybe their worlds were always meant to collide again had never really crossed his mind before. It was hard to ignore it now, though.</p><p>Draco made his way to the living room and plopped down on the sofa, placing his wand on the coffee table. He thought of turning on the telly because there must be no way either him or Potter could hold a conversation for more than five minutes before it got awkward. Then, he realized he couldn’t even remember how to turn the thing on. </p><p>Potter walked into the room holding two glasses of Firewhisky. He handed one of them to Draco as he sat next to him. “Teddy’s asleep.”</p><p>“When he grows up, I’ll tell him this is your idea of babysitting him.”</p><p>Laughing, Potter took a sip and set his drink down on the coffee table. “He’s asleep. He hasn’t woken up in the middle of the night since he was two. A glass won’t hurt.”</p><p>“If you say so.” Draco took a sip, and his throat instantly felt like it was on fire, but the burn felt good. </p><p>“You should have seen him when he was a baby. There was a point when Ginny, Hermione, Ron, and I slept here for most of the week to help Andromeda. Teddy woke up screaming every other hour.”</p><p>It was the first time he had mentioned his friends, and Draco didn’t know what to say. Andromeda had told him Potter wasn’t really seeing them as much anymore. Even Potter had mentioned it in the meetings. “Can hardly imagine Weasley handling a baby.”</p><p>Potter smirked. “He’s actually good with Teddy. Didn’t even drop him the first time all of Teddy’s nails turned into claws.”</p><p>“Turned into <em> what? </em>”</p><p>“Claws,” he repeated as if he didn’t understand what Draco could possibly be confused about. “He still can’t control his powers. Stuff like that happens every few months or so and goes away fairly quickly. Feeding him that night he had fangs for an hour was a bloody nightmare.”</p><p>“I’m suddenly thankful all I’ve witnessed were varying hair and eye colours.”</p><p>“It will happen while you’re there soon enough. I hope I’m there to see you lose it.”</p><p>Draco scoffed. “I work at a hospital with kids who are discovering they can do magic for the first time, Potter. Pretty sure I can handle it.”</p><p>“Okay, that’s fair,” Potter said before taking another gulp of his drink. “You know… The work you’re doing at St. Mungo’s… It’s pretty great.”</p><p>Draco felt his cheeks flush. He hoped Potter would just assume it was from the Firewhiskey he’s been sipping. “Merlin, how much did Andromeda tell you about me?”</p><p>“Quite a bit. She really wants us to be friends.”</p><p>“Probably my fault. She’s always worrying about me wanting to be alone all the time.”</p><p>Leaning back and tucking his feet underneath him, Potter shook his head. “No, trust me. It’s me. I’ve been practically avoiding everyone for the better part of a year now. I hardly ever see Ron and Hermione anymore.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“I don’t know. Turns out I've got quite a bit to work through. And that's just harder when you’re always surrounded by people who remember who you were before. If that makes sense.”</p><p>Draco felt a lurch in his stomach. “It does.”</p><p>“What about you? Why have you been avoiding your friends?”</p><p>“Oh. Er… Well...”</p><p>A look of realization dawned on Potter’s face. “Merlin. Never mind. Sorry. That was a rather stupid thing to ask.”</p><p>Most of Draco’s friends - not that he could still call them that - who hadn’t died in the war or ended up in Azkaban were in hiding. Not because they were on the run. Most of them were just too terrified or disgusted by the new world that followed after the war. A world that no longer catered to their beliefs. </p><p>“It’s… It’s alright. I can hardly call it a loss, right? Besides, I’ve made some friends at work. Like Astoria Greengrass from school.”</p><p>“Daphne’s sister?”</p><p>“Yeah. I didn’t really know her while we were at Hogwarts, but she also comes from a family of bigots who hate her for trying to be a decent person, so we bonded over that… Are all genuine friendships just based on shared trauma?”  </p><p>Potter laughed. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”</p><p>Draco huffed in amusement. “I still just really do prefer being alone. I feel like I owe myself a lifetime of quiet after everything that happened.”</p><p>“Me too,” Potter said. “Well, I guess Andromeda forcing us to spend time together is both of our faults.”</p><p>“Hah. I guess so.”</p><p>A silence followed, but it wasn’t awkward like Draco expected. It felt comfortable. Like they were just sitting and taking in the fact that they understood each other. Draco looked at Potter, who looked the most at peace Draco has ever seen him, and figured he felt it too.</p><p>Potter was the first to break the silence. “Do you like your job?”</p><p>Draco smiled. “Yeah. The first months were tough because none of the staff or patients really trusted me… Which is definitely more than fair. But I earned their trust eventually and did quite a good job bonding with the patients, especially the Muggle-born kids… To be honest, it felt selfish at first… Like I was just doing it because of all the guilt. Soon enough, though, I accepted the fact I really do just like helping them and being skilled in something important and good.”</p><p>“That sounds great. They’re… They’re lucky to have you.”</p><p>“Thanks… But it’s not really what I want to do in the long-run.”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“They call it an apprenticeship, but it’s really more of training for a different job… At Hogwarts.” </p><p>Draco looked away from Potter. He's only ever said it out loud to a few people: McGonagall, his mother, his supervisors at the hospital, Astoria. The thought that he, someone who was on the wrong side of the war, could be a teacher in charge of young people’s education did sound ridiculous. But it was real. And saying it out loud made it even more real, which was terrifying.</p><p>“Hogwarts?” </p><p>Draco was staring at his drink, but he could hear the shock in his voice. “Yeah. As the Potions teacher. I also meet up with Slughorn quite a bit during the holidays for theory work to prepare for it as well. McGonagall actually helped me get the St. Mungo’s job. The main work I do there is brew potions for the Healers. But I also had to choose extra work to specialize in, so I chose to help out Muggle-born kids. ”</p><p>Potter smiled, still looking surprised.  “So, until when will you be at St. Mungo’s?”</p><p>“Slughorn is retiring after this year and McGonagall said she’s been really happy with the work I’ve been doing, so…”</p><p>“Wow... Well, you’re a bit of a git, but some of our teachers were too, so you might just fit right in.”</p><p>Draco threw one of the couch’s pillows at him. “Oh, shut up, Potter.”</p><p>Potter chuckled. “No, really, though... That’s great… I think you’re going to be a great Potions teacher…”</p><p>“Well, I am following the man who bullied students and the man who collected them like trophies. The bar isn’t set that high.”</p><p>“That’s fair.”</p><p>“You know…When I last visited Hogwarts to discuss the job, McGonagall mentioned that you wrote her about the Defense of the Dark Arts position.”</p><p>Potter’s smile faded. “Oh, she did?"</p><p>"I don't think she meant to. She was musing on how two people from the same class - me and Longbottom - were going to be part of the faculty together. Then, she mentioned you saying you were interested."</p><p>He nodded slowly. "…Yeah. I, er... I wrote her a few weeks after I quit my Auror post. But after she said I was more than welcomed to have the position if I wanted it, I just never wrote her back.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“I don’t know…” Potter looked away as he brought his glass to his mouth.</p><p>“Is it because you feel guilty for going after things you want that have nothing to do with being an Auror because you still feel like you owe the wizarding world this heroic image of you that they have?” slipped out of Draco’s mouth before he could stop himself. </p><p>He choked on the gulp he was taking. “Jesus, Malfoy… ”</p><p>“I… Sorry,” Draco murmured, as he looked down at his glass. It was only now that he realized how much he’d been sipping it since they had started talking. His drink was gone. </p><p>Potter downed his drink, shaking his head. “No, you just… caught me off guard. But, you’re right. Christ, how do you do that?”</p><p>Draco figured that Potter must have been a little tipsy too if he was admitting that. “You’re the last person who owes the wizarding world anything.”</p><p>Potter smiled and started combing his fingers through his hair. Draco noticed he did that whenever he was thinking of something to say. “Merlin. You really are a different person now, aren't you?”</p><p>“Different from when I was a Pureblood supremacist who was part of a genocide? I’d hope so.”</p><p>“You barely had a choice,” Potter said. </p><p>“That’s not true. I really did believe everything they told me to believe.”</p><p>“Do you think you still would have if you were allowed to think for yourself?”</p><p>“I… I don’t know. I’m too scared of the answer to really think about that. But I hope not.”</p><p>“For what it’s worth, if it was otherwise, you wouldn’t be doing all the good that you’re doing now.”</p><p>“Thanks.” Draco could feel a flurry in his chest that he didn’t quite understand at the moment. “Still, though. I can’t really blame everyone for still hating me.”</p><p>“Well, <em>I </em>don’t hate you,” Potter mumbled.</p><p>Draco smiled. “I don’t hate you too.”</p><p>“Good,” Potter said, placing his empty glass on the coffee table. He flexed his hand and cringed ever so slightly as he did so.</p><p>“Does it still hurt?” Draco asked, scooting closer to him. Their knees were touching now, but he found that he didn’t really mind.</p><p>“A little.”</p><p>“Let me see.”</p><p>Potter held out his hand, palm-up, and Draco took it, examining the dark scar. It looked more faded now, but without the right potions on hand, it was still bound to hurt.</p><p>Potter scrunched up his nose, and Draco realized he was holding his hand too tight. </p><p>“M’sorry,” Draco whispered, as he loosened his grip. “Is that better?” he asked, looking up at him.</p><p>Potter nodded, running his other hand through his hair again. Draco watched as Potter’s long fingers pushed back his dark, wavy locks. It was the clearest view Draco has ever had of his face. He had never even been this close to him before.</p><p>The reflection of the warm fluorescent light of the living room in Potter’s green eyes looked like golden specks. The contour of his cheekbones and jaw were more prominent than they had ever been when they were teenagers. His eyelashes were long and dark, brushing against the lens of his glasses. </p><p>“Malfoy?”</p><p>Snapping out of his thoughts, Draco cleared his throat. “Sorry. I was just trying to remember a spell." He grabbed his wand and tapped Potter’s palm thrice, whispering the incantation for a numbing charm. “Better?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Potter said, pulling his hand away. “Thanks. Again.”</p><p>“It’s nothing. Just don’t be an idiot and forget your wand again,” Draco quipped, hoping Potter couldn’t see how red he was. “Hey, can I ask you something?”</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>“Earlier… At the center with that mirror shard and everything… You know that was an anxiety attack, right?”</p><p>Potter looked at the floor.</p><p>“I don’t mean to sound condescending,” Draco hastily added. “I just wanted to make sure because a lot of my patients who grew up in the wizarding world and are old enough to remember the war get them. A lot of them don’t really know what it is, so it makes it harder for them to deal with it.”</p><p>“That makes sense,” Potter replied. “Wizarding medicine <em> is </em> ridiculously behind when it comes to shit like that. How do <em> you </em>know about that?”</p><p>Draco shrugged. “Some of the kids showed symptoms of it, and I didn’t understand. So, I read some Muggle textbooks about it and worked with some of the few Muggle-born Healers at work. Before that, St. Mungo’s never had a protocol for attacks that some patients get, which was stupid.”</p><p>“Huh. You’re really changing that place for the better. And you’re just an apprentice. That’s some Hermione Granger-level stuff.”</p><p>Draco smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment. I had some selfish motives, though. I was getting those attacks too. So, I wanted to figure out what was going on with me.”</p><p>“And you’re not getting attacks anymore?”</p><p>“Well, up until a few months ago, I was -” Draco cut himself off. “You’re changing the subject.”</p><p>Potter rolled his eyes, but gave a small smile in defeat. “Fine. Yes, I know it was an anxiety attack. Hermione was the one helping me with them before I, you know, practically disappeared.”</p><p>“What’s with the mirror?”</p><p>“I… I don’t know. It’s a long story. But basically it kind of just reminds me that I’ve done some dumb mistakes in the past that have hurt people.”</p><p>“Why do you keep it then?”</p><p>“Because it’s from Sirius. And because I’m scared that if I forget about how my impulsive decisions led to…led to bad things... then I’d make those mistakes again. And more people die.”</p><p>Draco frowned. “You do remember you’re no longer responsible for everyone, right? The world isn't in shambles like it was. No lives are in your hands anymore.”</p><p>Potter shrugged. “I know… It’s just hard to remember that.”</p><p>“And I don’t know about the specifics of what you’re talking about… But holding yourself accountable for your mistakes and vowing not to repeat them doesn’t mean you have to torture yourself with them” Draco said. “No one can heal that way.”</p><p>Smiling sadly, Potter looked at Draco. “You should take your own advice.”</p><p>Taken aback by comment, Draco nodded. “Fair play.”</p><p>“But thank you,” Potter added. He raised his wounded hand. “Not just for this, but also for… I don’t know. Whatever it is you’re doing that makes me want to actually talk about this rubbish. Merlin knows how you do it, but… Thanks.”</p><p>“I don’t know either, but you’re welcome.”</p><p>Potter cleared his throat. “Hey, do you want to watch a couple of movies? Today’s sort of been emotionally exhausting, and I feel like if I don’t put something on you’re gonna do whatever it is you and get me to talk more. Also, Ted’s collection is great,” he insisted, standing and walking to a large shelf of tapes next to the telly. </p><p>Draco laughed. “Alright.”</p><p>The idea of spending more time with Potter should sound excruciating to him, but so far, it has felt… good. And he found himself thinking that he actually did want to keep doing it. </p><p>Potter turned back to him with a tape in his hand. “Muggle films. They’re like… stories but -”</p><p>“I’m not dumb, Potter. I know what a movie is. I spend most of my days with Muggle-born kids, remember?”</p><p>Potter smirked. The kind of lopsided, teasing  grin that used to aggravate Draco. “Well, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were <em> such </em> an expert.”</p><p>“Shut up.”</p><p>
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</p><p>“UNCLE DWACO. YOU’RE HERE!”</p><p>Draco jolted awake to find that Teddy was sitting on his lap and holding his face in his tiny hands.</p><p>“Hey, kid,” Draco yawned, ruffling Teddy’s turquoise hair. He looked up to see Potter standing in front of them, holding out a mug of coffee.</p><p>“Andromeda said you liked coffee in the morning...” he mumbled, handing the coffee to Draco.</p><p>“Oh. Thanks.”</p><p>He could already hear the clatter of pans and Andromeda’s singing from the kitchen. They both must have fallen asleep on the couch halfway through the fourth movie they had been watching. Potter had said it was a prequel to the trilogy they had just watched, Star Wars. The order in which they had watched the series was baffling to Draco, but he had figured it was best not to argue.</p><p>He took another look at Potter as he sipped the coffee.  Potter’s hair was the messiest it’s ever been, and his t-shirt was wrinkled. Draco’s eyes travelled south and saw that Potter’s pajamas that he changed into in between movies were riding really low, exposing a strip of dark skin and the contours of his abdomen. He took another long sip in a desperate attempt to hide his face, which he was sure was reddening.</p><p>Teddy rolled off of Draco’s lap, landing on the sofa’s cushions. He started to bounce in place, grinning wide, and pointed at his godfather. “You didn’t tell me, ‘Arry!”</p><p>Draco looked at Potter questioningly, but Potter ignored him and sat on Teddy’s other side.</p><p>“Tell you what?”</p><p>“That Uncle Dwaco was here!”</p><p>“Well, it was a surprise.”</p><p>Teddy turned to look at Draco, beaming. “I like surprises.”</p><p>“Me too, kid,” Draco said, opening his arms. Teddy instantly jumped onto Draco’s chest, hugging him. Draco squeezed him back.  Draco hadn’t seen Teddy for a couple of weeks and was only starting to realize now how much he had missed the kid.</p><p>He glanced at Potter, who looked confused and amused at the same time. </p><p>“I guess Andromeda wasn’t lying. He really does like you.”</p><p>“The tone of surprise hurts,” Draco retorted, but he found himself smiling at the comment.</p><p>Teddy released Draco and turned to his godfather again. “Are you friends now?”</p><p>Draco cleared his throat. “Well, uh…”</p><p>“Yeah,” Potter answered, grinning at Draco. “I think we are.”</p><p>As soon as Potter said that and smiled at him, the sort of smile no one would deny was kind and light and <em> infectious</em>, Draco felt himself smiling as well. </p><p>Draco could probably name what he was feeling right then and there. It’s not like it wasn’t something he had felt for other blokes before. But right now, to call it anything more than the joy he felt around friends was dangerous and scary. Especially because it was Potter of all people and because this moment felt too right to disrupt with that terrifying thought.</p><p>He leaned back and took another sip. As he continued to watch Potter listen to Teddy, who was asking about dragons, with such sincere interest, Draco decided to deal with the warmth spreading throughout his chest later. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for the comments and all the kudos! they rly help motivate me to keep writing so yall are great huhu. Next chapter will be out in a week or two!</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. thinking 'bout making a comeback, back to me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Draco is having A Crisis about a certain crush that was definitely more complicated than all the ones he has had before. Harry feels strange about his new friendship with Draco, but slowly realizes it's actually what he needs to take the baby steps towards healing.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>sorry for the wait! for what it's worth this chapter ended up like... twice as long as i had planned.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Draco clutched the container full of food that Andromeda had instructed him to give to Potter on his way to work. He knew he could have Apparated immediately to Thornton’s Books, the bookshop Potter works at, but he felt like he needed a walk. So, from Andromeda’s doorstep, he Apparated to a spot a few streets away from the store. As if the extra five minutes would give him enough time to process what he was feeling earlier this morning before seeing Potter again.</p><p>Draco opened his eyes and found himself in a narrow alley between buildings. He looked around to make sure no one had seen him before stepping onto the sidewalk and making his way to the bookshop.</p><p>Potter, rushing to get ready for work after realizing how late he’d be, had left shortly after Draco had woken up despite Andromeda’s protests that he should have brunch with them. Draco, on the other hand, hadn’t minded Potter leaving early. If he wasn’t there, then Draco could just pretend that everything was normal. Pretend that he hadn’t spent the previous night watching Muggle films with Potter and trying to ignore the fact that he was getting attracted to him.</p><p>Draco had always known he liked blokes. It’s not that he had never tried to deny it; of course he had. It’s just that he could never do it well enough to convince himself otherwise. </p><p>It was hard to be in denial when he had once cut out pictures of the attractive players of Ireland’s Quidditch team from Seeker’s Weekly and put them up his wall before guiltily taking them down when he realized his father would not be happy with this. Or when he had spent most of Ravenclaw’s games staring at Roger Davies’ arse whenever Draco wasn’t playing. Or when he had drunkenly snogged Blaise Zabini in the first week of his fifth year, which led to two years of them secretly hooking up in broom closets and trophy rooms.</p><p>So, coming out a year after his father was sent to Azkaban wasn’t as hard of a decision as he had always thought it would be. With most of wizarding society already hating him, he had figured that this would make little difference to his life. Draco had shrugged off every insulting headline and intrusive candid photo that made its way to the pages of the Daily Prophet each time he was seen with a new bloke. It hasn’t mattered to him in a long time. </p><p>But this was different. It’s <em> Potter. </em>Their friendship was new and strange. He was his nephew’s godfather. Fancying him sounded like too much trouble for Draco. </p><p>Draco stopped as he spotted Potter’s bike, realizing he had arrived at the store. He pushed the door open.</p><p>“Malfoy?”</p><p>Draco looked up and saw Potter, who was walking over to him with a box full of books. He was wearing a white t-shirt that clung to his body, and his muscled arms were flexing from the weight he was carrying. </p><p>“Ah, hey.” Draco lifted the container in his hands. “Andromeda wouldn’t let me leave until I brought you lunch.”</p><p>Potter snickered and put down the box he was carrying to take the container from Draco. “Sorry ‘bout that.” He looked down at the container. “This is a bit heavy. This feels like too much food.”</p><p>“It is,” Draco said, looking at the small grin on Potter’s face.</p><p>“Do you want to split it? I was about to take a lunch break. We could eat it in the break room.”</p><p>Draco smiled at the thought but shook his head. “It’s alright. I have to head back to my place and change for work. I technically have the morning shift this month, but I just took the morning off because I promised Andromeda I’d come over for brunch.” </p><p>“Oh, alright,” Potter said, looking disappointed. Or maybe Draco just wanted him to be disappointed and read it that way. He wasn’t sure. “Well, I’ll see you.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Draco mumbled, turning around and walking towards the door. </p><p>“Wait.”</p><p>Draco spun around too fast for his liking, stumbling a little. He hoped Potter didn’t notice. “Yeah?” </p><p>“Do you want to finish the Star Wars movies at my place sometime?”</p><p>He hoped he wasn’t blushing. “You know, not the best movies to introduce to someone who's never seen one before, Potter. Those were chaotic.”</p><p>Potter laughed. “They’re masterpieces!”</p><p>“They were alright,” Draco said, grinning. “But… Er… Sure. Yeah. Why not?”</p><p><em> Why not? Because being alone with him in his house isn’t the best way to ignore a dumb crush, you idiot, </em>he thought to himself. </p><p>Potter smiled, and it was enough for Draco to convince himself this wasn’t a completely terrible idea. “Great!”</p><p>
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</p><p>“Mother? I’m home!” Draco called out as he closed the door behind him. </p><p>“In the living room, darling!”</p><p>Staying with his mother wasn’t his first choice when it came to living arrangements. Draco had moved into this house as soon as he got his first job at the Ministry. Living alone had been liberating. </p><p>He had decorated it the way he wanted to: something more modern and sleek after years of living in a manor crowded with ancient artifacts and tacky heirlooms. He had brought a string of one-night-stands home, feeling more thrilled by the thought that there was no one else home to judge who he fucked than by the meaningless sex itself. Draco had even taken pleasure in doing mundane things alone like laundry and cooking, sort of as a quiet celebration of his normalcy.</p><p>Still, after a few months, the freedom hadn’t been enough for him to ignore how miserable his mother was living alone in the manor. So, he had convinced her to sell it and move in with him. </p><p>Draco hung his bag on the rack and followed his mother’s voice. He entered the living room to see her curled up in her dressing robe and reading a book by the fireplace. There was a glass of red wine levitating by her head. She looked up as soon as she sensed Draco standing by the living room entryway. “Hello, darling. How was work?”</p><p>“It was alright,” Draco replied, walking over to sit on the couch. “I mostly spent my time in the Potions room. A lot of kids I was assigned to got discharged yesterday. I wrote to their parents during my break, and they said the kids were doing well.”</p><p>“That’s great, dear,” she cooed. “I didn’t catch you this morning. Did you fall asleep studying your books at Astoria’s again?”</p><p>“Oh, no… I spent the night at Andromeda’s to stay with Teddy because she had to keep her nephew company at the Muggle hospital. Minor accident. Everyone’s alright, she said.”</p><p>She beamed at Draco. “That was very sweet of you, darling. You’re usually too anxious to look after him by yourself overnight.”</p><p>“I was… I was actually with Potter.”</p><p>His mother closed her book, brows furrowed. “Really?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Last time I saw you boys together in the same room…” </p><p>She trailed off. Draco knew what she had meant to say, but they don’t really talk about the trials much. </p><p>“Well, how is he? Andromeda told me he’s doing better since he quit being an Auror.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah…” Draco fiddled with the leaves of the potted plant next to him. Talking about Potter with her was strange. “He’s...good.”</p><p>“And you two get along?”</p><p>Draco decided to ignore how the question made it sound like he and Potter were a couple of six-year-olds who were forced to be friends. “Yeah… We do.”</p><p>“That’s good. You’d be good together,” his mom said nonchalantly as she opened up her book again. </p><p>Draco grew red. “W-what?”</p><p>“You two would be good friends,” she clarified, her eyes not leaving the pages of her book. “And it would be good for Teddy.”</p><p>“Right. Yeah…” Draco took his wand out of his pocket and summoned a wine glass from the kitchen. He grabbed the bottle of wine on the coffee table and poured it into his glass. </p><p>When Draco downed his drink in one go, his mother peered over her book again. “Are you alright? Have you even had dinner yet?”</p><p>Draco nodded, already refilling his glass. “Yes and yes. I just really like this bottle,” he lied. </p><p>“Alright, darling, but that’s your last glass. You need to be up early tomorrow.”</p><p>Feeling like a teenager being chastised, Draco grumbled as he nodded. </p><p>He sipped his wine as he thought about how this shouldn’t be such a big deal. Maybe he was just overthinking it. </p><p>It was simply just that Draco had realized that Potter was an attractive bloke. And that he was kind and funny. And that he made the people around him feel good. These shouldn’t be earth-shattering truths. Almost everyone who knew Harry Potter would describe him as that. Knowing all these things now shouldn’t be counted as having feelings for him, right?</p><p>Draco gulped down the remainder of his drink before standing up. “I’m going to bed.”</p><p>“Okay, dear, goodnight,” she said, looking up at him and smiling.</p><p>He planted a kiss on the top of his mother’s head. “Goodnight.”</p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <em> Draco scratched at the back of the person on top of him as he groaned, bucking into the man’s touch. Everything he touched felt hot, sweaty, and sticky, but it didn’t matter. He just wanted more, more, more.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The man caught Draco’s lips with his, and Draco leaned up into the kiss, his hand grabbing at dark wavy locks. He pulled away and started trailing his mouth along the man’s collarbone and up his neck, tasting every inch of the warm, brown skin.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Draco heard a soft, yearning whine as he continued to leave kisses along the man’s jaw.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Malfoy…” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> "Patience, Potter.” </em>
</p><p>Draco sat up in his bed with a jolt, sweating all over and feeling the tightness at the front of his pyjamas. </p><p> </p><p>“...Well, fuck.”</p><p>
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</p><hr/><p>
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</p><p>It had been a few days later, and Harry still couldn’t believe he was friends with Malfoy. </p><p>What was even harder to believe was how easy talking to Malfoy was. He didn’t know what it was, but there was something about him that actually made Harry want to volunteer information about his feelings for the first time in a long time. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Malfoy, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Yeah, Monday night works. I still live at 12 Grimmauld Place in Islington. Just come over at 8. I’ll be back from work then.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> - H.P. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> P.S. Get a mobile, for Merlin’s sake. I could have said all this in a text message. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>As he sat in his study and finished penning a reply to Malfoy’s letter, he found that he was actually looking forward to hanging out with him again. He didn’t know what had compelled him to invite him over. Harry hasn’t had anyone over other than Andromeda for a while.</p><p>He rolled up the small piece of parchment and reached over to the windowsill where the Malfoys’ owl was perched, obviously instructed to wait for a response. Harry tied the rolled-up paper to the owl’s leg before watching it fly away. </p><p>As he closed his window and leaned back in his chair, he spotted another letter on his desk, underneath his books. It was from Ron. He had received it in the morning when he was half-asleep.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Harry, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I hope you’re doing alright, mate. I know I’ve said this already, but I’ll say it again. If you ever need to talk, Hermione and I are here for you. I just wanted to write because I haven’t heard from you since your birthday over a month ago.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Don’t get me wrong. I really appreciate that you’ve been seeing and talking to us more the past few months, and I know that you’re working on getting better. But I just wanted to say that I miss you. So does Hermione.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It doesn’t have to be us meeting or whatever. But write or call us soon. We want to know what you’ve been up to.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> - Ron  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Harry felt a tug in his chest. He really did miss talking to Ron and Hermione. For a reason he couldn’t quite place, though, he was dreading the thought of responding. </p><p>Maybe it was the guilt of being absent from their lives most of the year. Maybe it was that they reminded him too much of a time he wanted to forget. Maybe it was just that he he had been this weird recluse for too long and regularly being around his two best friends, who were busy with and thriving at their careers, made him anxious.</p><p>“‘Arry?” </p><p>Harry dropped the letter and spun his chair around. Teddy was standing in the doorway of his study. </p><p>“Ted, you’re awake. Are you okay?”</p><p>Teddy’s lips were quivering, and there were tears forming in his eyes. His hair was the same brown as the color Tonks’ hair used to shift to whenever she was upset. </p><p>Harry stood up and walked to his godson, scooping him up into his arms. “Nightmares?”</p><p>The four-year-old nodded, tears streaming down his cheeks, before burying his face in the crook of Harry’s neck. </p><p>“Wanna sleep in my room tonight?”</p><p>He could feel Teddy nod against his shoulder. </p><p>“Alright, kid. Come on,” he whispered as he carried him out the study and up the stairs. </p><p>By the time he laid Teddy on the bed, the kid had fallen asleep again. Harry put a blanket over him and sat on the edge of the bed gently playing with his hair until he seemed less tense. </p><p>After staying like that for a while, Teddy’s hair slowly turned back to its usual turquoise. Harry relaxed and stood up to change. </p><p>Before he could reach his closet, there was a tap on the window. Harry jumped, but then saw it was just the Malfoys' owl again. </p><p>“I’m getting him a bloody mobile myself if he keeps this up,” Harry muttered to himself.</p><p>He opened the window and grabbed the small piece of paper attached to the owl's leg. The eagle owl flew away immediately after. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Potter, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Sure, I’ll see you then. Also, those phones are too confusing. I can see why you hate writing letters, though. Your handwriting is fucking terrible. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> - D </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Harry chuckled to himself, shaking his head. He didn’t know why the prospect of spending time with Draco Malfoy made him less anxious than the thought of seeing Ron and Hermione. But he didn’t want to deal with that now. </p><p>
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</p><hr/><p><br/>“How about you, Harry? Anything you’d like to share?”</p><p>It was Harry’s third meeting. He hadn’t planned on going today, but the moment Andromeda had picked Teddy up from his place and he was left with an empty house again, he felt the strong urge to go. </p><p>He didn’t know if it was because, lately, he had been getting less comfortable with the silence he had been subjecting himself to for the past year or so. Or because he had taken another look at Ron’s letter again and panicked. Maybe it was both. </p><p> This time, Malfoy wasn’t around. He didn’t know whether he liked that or not.</p><p>“Oh, er… I don’t know....” </p><p>Jasmine, the facilitator, nodded encouragingly. “It can be anything. How you’re feeling, whether you’ve been seeing your friends… Anything,” she prompted. </p><p>Harry cleared his throat, shuffling awkwardly in his seat. “Well, er… Okay. I’ve been… I made a new friend, actually. And it’s been helping me because this person went through a lot of the same things that I did.”</p><p> “That’s great, Harry. Letting yourself trust new people and expanding your support system is a great way to progress your healing journey.”</p><p>“That’s the thing, though,” Harry replied, looking at the floor. “I feel guilty letting a new person into my life when I’ve been a terrible friend to the people who are already in it. Saying I want space because all this grief is catching up to me is one thing. But saying it and then making space for new people when I can’t even let the friends I already had back into my life is… I feel like I’m being hypocritical.”</p><p>“You aren’t being hypocritical,” Jasmine assured. “After going through traumatic events like loss, distancing yourself from people who were there to witness you at your lowest is completely normal.”</p><p>Another voice popped up. It was an older man next to Harry. His eyes looked tired but bright and kind at the same time. “You said that this new person went through the same things you did, right? And that it’s been helping you heal?”</p><p>Harry nodded. </p><p>“Well, there you go,” the man said. “When my wife died, I isolated everyone in my life. Then I met a friend in a group like this one who helped me process all those feelings of grief and trauma. It eventually helped me let my walls down again... So, you’re not being hypocritical. Your instincts are just leading you to people who can best help you heal at the moment. Whether you know it or not, you’re choosing to form bonds with people who can change you for the better and help you get ready to make space for the people you’ve been meaning to let into your life again.”</p><p>It felt like his words hit Harry right on the chest. Harry looked up at the man. “I guess… I guess that makes sense.”</p><p>The man shrugged. “It’s just a process, mate. Besides, if you go about it this way and continue to trust yourself and the people around you, you end up with a support system that’s bigger than the one you started with, right?”</p><p>Harry took a deep breath and nodded, feeling a lot lighter than he had this morning. </p><p> </p><hr/><p>
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</p><p>“Did you have a hard time finding the place?” Harry asked Malfoy as he led him to the living room. “Hermione put up a charm that makes anyone looking for my place lose all sense of direction until they’re like ten streets away from me. Shouldn’t affect people I’ve had over or invited after the charm was placed, but it can work funny sometimes…”</p><p>“Oh, no, I just Apparated onto your front step,” Malfoy said as he looked around the room. </p><p>Harry turned to face him. “You’ve been here?”</p><p>Malfoy shifted from one foot to another awkwardly. “Er… Yeah… Yaxley.”</p><p>“Oh. Right,” Harry murmured, remembering that Yaxley had managed to grab Hermione’s arm when they Apparated from the Ministry after stealing the locket from Umbridge. Each of the Death Eaters must have been stationed here at least once while he, Ron, and Hermione were on the run. In case they came back. </p><p>“I’m sorry. Did I make it weird?”</p><p>Harry sighed, sitting on the couch. He gestured for Malfoy to take a seat as well, and he did. </p><p>“No, no. It’s alright. To say that worse people have been here is an understatement.”</p><p>“Like my parents.”</p><p>Harry winced, remembering that Narcissa must have practically grown up here with her being cousins with Sirius. “W-what? No. That’s not what I meant. I- I just mean that-”</p><p> “Don’t get your knickers in a bunch, Potter. It’s fine. My father <em> was </em> a horrible person. My mother used to be too. For what it’s worth, the place is unrecognizable now.”</p><p>He was right. Harry would have never moved into the place if any part of it still reminded him too much of Sirius’ terrible parents. The place was now brighter and cleaner than it had ever been. Hermione had transformed all the furniture into more modern-looking pieces. All the dark wallpaper had been replaced with white paint. He had torn down the walls with portraits of Sirius’ relatives on them because the permanent sticking charms wouldn’t budge. </p><p>He even did all he could to make the place feel smaller and homier. The living room used to take up the entire first floor. With Hermione and Ginny’s help, he had managed to build a kitchen and dining room on the floor as well. The old kitchen and dining room on the ground floor had been converted to makeshift garages where he could work on the bike and park it when he couldn’t leave it outside. </p><p>Harry’s favorite part was the wall where the mural of the Black family tree had been. He, together with Hermione, Ron, and Ginny, had spent an afternoon painting a beautiful maroon shade over it without any magic. Once it was dry, they covered the entire wall with framed photos of everyone in Harry’s life. A photo of Harry and Ginny laughing in a pub. Ron and Hermione beaming in front of the house they had just bought. Teddy and Victoire in tiny matching Weasley sweaters during Victoire’s first Christmas.</p><p>
  <span>He lost count of how many pictures were up on that wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were even a few of his parents that Remus had given him. Them chasing him as he flew on a toy broomstick. A newborn Harry in his mum’s arms, his dad visibly crying in the reflection of the mirror behind them as he took the picture. One after their wedding - his mum in a poofy wedding dress and his dad in a sherwani - where they’re sitting on a table in the middle of an empty reception hall, barefoot and looking a little drunk, making faces at the camera.  </span>
</p><p>“Thanks, I made sure of it,” Harry said. “Have you eaten? Andromeda left me a week’s worth of food in my fridge again when she picked Teddy up yesterday.”</p><p>Malfoy laughed. “Sounds like her. But I’m good. Came from dinner with mother.”</p><p>“Alright, I’ll go get us some crisps. Do you want a beer?”</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>Harry got up and was ready to go to the kitchen when Malfoy added, “I can get it.” </p><p>“Oh, er, alright.” Harry sat back down, ready to make an excuse about leaving his wand up in his bedroom, but Malfoy had already taken out his wand, waving it in an arc.</p><p>“Accio crisps and beer!”</p><p>Harry heard his fridge and cupboard open and close, and within seconds, a bag of crisps and two bottles of beer came zooming to them. </p><p>Effortlessly, Harry turned around to catch one of the bottles in his hand and the bag of crisps in the other as Malfoy fumbled with the other bottle before it fell on the sofa’s cushion.</p><p>Harry snorted as Malfoy picked the bottle. Malfoy made a face at him as he tapped their bottles with the tip of his wand to open them. </p><p>“Shut up, Potter.”</p><p>“Don’t worry, Malfoy. I always was the better Seeker.” </p><p>“You’re a headache.” Malfoy rolled his eyes and turned to the telly, but Harry could see him holding back a grin. “Come on then, let’s finish the blasted movie.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><hr/><p><br/>“Okay, no.”</p><p>Harry took the remote and paused the movie. “What?”</p><p>“I can’t finish this. I just can’t. That <em> thing </em>with the long ears that keeps saying dumb shite? Nope.”</p><p>Harry burst out laughing. “Fine. We can watch something else.” </p><p>Harry was about to stand up to take the tape out of the player when Malfoy pointed to the big cans of paint at the corner of the room and asked, “What are those for?”</p><p>“Oh. Uh, for Teddy’s room. For years, when he slept here, I just kept him in the cot in my room. But he outgrew it a year ago. I tried turning one of the guest rooms into his room, and that’s where he’s been sleeping. But the only rooms he actually likes staying in are my room - Regulus’ old room - and Sirius’ room. I realized a couple of days ago that he has nightmares whenever he sleeps anywhere else.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“My room and Sirius’ room have huge windows and don’t have any creepy paintings and decor stuck on the walls that I can’t tear down without the whole room getting destroyed … Also, Sirius has several pictures of his Hogwarts days on his walls. I reckon Teddy recognizes his dad in some of them. ” </p><p>“So, you’re turning Sirius’ room into Teddy’s room? That’s a great idea.”</p><p>Harry sighed, looking down at the hem of his shirt that he started to fumble with. “I’m trying to.”</p><p>Malfoy raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”</p><p>“… It’s the only room I haven’t cleaned out all these years. I haven’t even been in it alone since the war. It’s… hard.”</p><p>“I can help.”</p><p>Harry’s eyes shot up. “Huh?”</p><p>Malfoy shrugged. “If you can’t be in there alone, I can help.” He stood up, already taking his jacket off. </p><p>Harry looked up at Malfoy who was only now wearing a crisp black shirt tucked neatly into his tapered trousers. He grinned at Harry, and Harry felt a strange tug in his chest. </p><p>Malfoy nodded toward the direction of the stairs. </p><p>“What?” Harry asked. “<em> Now? </em>”</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>“Don’t you have work early tomorrow?”</p><p>“Nah, I had to work this weekend because of an emergency, so I got today and tomorrow off.”</p><p>“Oh… Okay then. Thanks,” Harry said, slowly nodding. He got up and started leading Malfoy to and up the stairs. “Why are you doing this?” </p><p>“Anything for Teddy,” Malfoy said behind him. </p><p>Harry smiled to himself. Maybe it wasn’t so hard to see why he liked being around Malfoy. </p><p>When they got to the fourth floor where Harry’s bedroom and Sirius’ old room are, Malfoy groaned. “I forgot how many floors this place has.”</p><p>“You literally lived in a mansion, Malfoy.”</p><p>They walked down the hallway to open the door that had a small silver nameplate with ‘Sirius” engraved on it in cursive. Harry felt for the light switch and turned it on. </p><p>The room was big, but it felt cramped because of the clutter. Books and old letters were strewn across the floor. The large bed with the carved headboard had unwashed sheets in a disarray. Some of Teddy’s toys, which he had left from the few times Harry allowed him to play in here, could be found in every corner. Peeling from the walls was the gray and white wallpaper, most of which couldn’t be seen because of Sirius’ posters. </p><p>The moonlight spilled from the bay window that took up most of the wall opposite the doorway. He thought of how adding a large window seat where Teddy could read his picture books or draw by the natural light would be nice. </p><p>“It’s actually a lot cleaner than I anticipated,” Malfoy said, taking a swig out of his beer that Harry hadn’t noticed he had brought with him.</p><p>“Yeah, I got rid of all the dust and dirt when I couldn’t keep Teddy from playing in here.” </p><p>Malfoy walked into the room, looking around. “Well, I know the first thing I want to clean out.”</p><p>Harry followed his gaze to see a cluster of posters that featured Muggle women posing seductively in bikinis. He laughed, shaking his head. “Not the most child-friendly decor, I suppose.” </p><p>“C’mon, let’s get to work then.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p><br/>By midnight, they had stripped down all the wallpaper (Harry couldn’t believe the number of loopholes to permanent sticking charms that the Blacks hadn’t thought of) and cut around the pictures Harry wanted to keep, sanded and patched the walls, and got rid of most of the rubbish in the room. </p><p>Now, they were sitting on the floor by the bay window on opposite sides of a pile of items. They had emptied out Sirius’ wardrobe, dressers, shelves, and trunk. It was mostly a mix of old clothes, books, records, and letters from Sirius’ early Hogwarts years and the few items he had when the Order of the Phoenix was stationed here. </p><p>Most of Sirius’ belongings must have been at Harry’s grandparents’ house from when Sirius had run away from Grimmauld Place or the flat he had lived in with Remus before he was sent to Azkaban. Harry realized he didn’t know where either of those places were. </p><p>Harry and Malfoy had two boxes by the pile: one for things to keep and another for the ones to throw away. They mostly stay silent as they sorted, except to make jokes about some of Sirius’ more questionable clothing or when Malfoy had to ask Harry if it was okay to throw something out. </p><p>“Hey, look,” Malfoy said, breaking the silence. He reached over to hand Harry a worn-out photo. “For a minute, I thought it was you and Weasley.”</p><p>It was his dad, flipping off the camera. Next to him was a red-headed girl who was hiding her face in with her hands but was visibly laughing, as if Sirius had just caught them doing something they shouldn’t have. They were sitting on the top step of the staircase that led to the Gryffindor boys’ dormitory.</p><p>Most of the pictures he had seen of his parents together were from after he was born. They looked barely seventeen in this photo and were wearing their Hogwarts robes. Harry liked the thought of them being another typical, nauseating pair of lovesick kids in school.</p><p>“Remus made an offhand comment once about how whenever he saw me and Ginny talking in the distance sometimes, he had to do a double-take because we reminded him of my parents.”</p><p>“Is that weird?”</p><p>Harry carefully placed the photo in the box of items he was keeping. “The thought comforted me for a few years after the war. But now that we’ve broken up… Yeah, it’s weird.”</p><p>“Are you thinking of, er…” Malfoy cleared his throat, looking away. “Do you reckon you two are ever getting back together?”</p><p>Harry continued to look through the pile. “I thought so. I was so sure of it for a few months. But I’ve changed a lot in the past year, and so has she. I still love her, but I can’t imagine going back to loving her <em> that </em>way again. I reckon we’ve both outgrown whatever of our relationship is left to return to if I do get back together with her.” Then, Harry groaned. “You’re doing it again.”</p><p>Malfoy frowned at him. “What?”</p><p>“You’re doing whatever it is you do that makes me tell you things I’ve never even said aloud to myself before.”</p><p>Malfoy laughed. “I don’t do it on purpose, Potter.”</p><p>“Well, I hate it. It’s your turn. You talk this time.”</p><p>Snorting, Malfoy shook his head. “Yeah, sure, I’ll tell you about <em> my </em> girlfriends.”</p><p>Harry shrugged as he tossed a bunch of worn out and unusable shirts into the rubbish box. “Why not? This friendship seems to be based on oversharing anyway,” he said, chuckling.</p><p>“Er… I was being sarcastic, you idiot.”</p><p>Harry looked up at him, confused.</p><p>Malfoy rolled his eyes. “I’m gay. I like blokes, remember?”</p><p>“Um, <em> what? </em>”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Harry stared at him with his mouth open, not sure what to say. He didn’t know why Malfoy was acting like this wasn’t new information. “Was I supposed to know this?”</p><p>Malfoy frowned. “It was on the front page for seven days straight when I first came out, so...”</p><p>It made sense now. Harry hasn’t picked up or even looked at a single Daily Prophet issue for years. He hated seeing his face on the paper every other day. Everything from date nights with Ginny to him visiting his parents’ grave was considered front-page news. </p><p>He had heard some things when he and Malfoy both worked at the Ministry, of course. But he had thought that it was petty office gossip. “I… I haven’t read the Daily Prophet in almost four years.” </p><p>“Oh…” Malfoy picked up a scarf from a pile and started to play with the tassels, looking unsure of what to do. “Well… Yeah. I am.”</p><p>“It doesn’t bother me, if that’s what you’re thinking.”</p><p>“Oh, no, of course. I wasn’t thinking that,” Malfoy said, but Harry could see his tense shoulders visibly relax. </p><p>They continued to sort things into boxes in silence. Harry didn’t know what to say. It was a surprise, yeah. But it didn’t matter. Of course, it was easy for him to say. He didn’t know how much Malfoy trusted Harry to not be weird about this. </p><p>“Front page for seven days straight, huh?” Harry asked, breaking the silence. “How many ways could they paraphrase ‘Draco Malfoy is Gay,’ exactly?”</p><p>Malfoy let out a huff of amusement. “You out of all people should know how creative they are when it comes to spinning the same thing into a new story.”</p><p>“That’s true… When was this?”</p><p>“Three years ago... I didn’t really formally come out. I sort of just...got tired of hiding it when people were going to hate me either way and kissed a bloke in the middle of Diagon Alley. Word spread fast.”</p><p>“Rita Skeeter?” Harry guessed. </p><p>Malfoy nodded. “Of course.”</p><p>“A-are you still seeing that person?” </p><p>“Nah. Only went out a few months. None of my relationships really lasted a significant amount of time. It’s either the angry letters from father in Azkaban get to me or the fact that I was a Death Eater starts to bother them. Not exactly the ideal bachelor.”</p><p>“Your father knew?”</p><p>“Yeah. He wrote a <em> lot </em> of letters threatening that he’d murder me if he ever got out. As if he ever could. I even learned new slurs I haven’t heard before. His vocabulary was a lot more colorful than I thought,” Malfoy said, letting out a bitter laugh.</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>Malfoy shrugged. “It’s alright. He’s gone. It doesn’t matter anymore.”</p><p>Harry knew that it was a lie, what with everything he had shared about his father in the meetings. It still obviously affected him. “You don’t get shit about it at work, right?”</p><p>He shook his head. “No, thankfully. I’ve made friends with most of the Healers and employees there. I’m not necessarily close with any of them other than Astoria, but they wouldn’t give me shit for it. Hogwarts, on the other hand…”</p><p>Harry frowned. “Reckon it’ll be a problem? I know McGonagall and the other teachers can be old school sometimes, but there’s no way-”</p><p>“That's not the problem. McGonagall knows, and she doesn’t mind. Even when I returned to Hogwarts for my final year of studies after coming out, the teachers didn't have a problem. But the parents… Half of them will be protesting against an ex-Death Eater teaching their kids, which is valid, and the other half will be protesting against a gay man teaching their kids. Less valid, but still.”</p><p>“Oh... Well, McGonagall wouldn’t let them touch you if she thought you were doing a great job, Malfoy.”</p><p>Malfoy sighed. “I hope so… You should take up McGonagall’s offer, Potter. Maybe no one will look my way if they’re too busy getting hyped up about the Boy Who Lived being their children’s professor,” he said, grinning.</p><p>Harry laughed. “You’re underestimating the general public and the media. They can easily give both of us trouble without much of an effort.”</p><p>Malfoy chuckled. “Guess you’re right.”</p><p>Harry grabbed another bundle of photos that was hiding underneath the junk. It was more memories that Sirius had captured. Many of them were in Hogwarts. He lingered on a photo of Remus in a brown cardigan, smiling begrudgingly at the camera as he was trying to study. Harry remembered wearing a similar cardigan for the first D.A. meeting. He remembered what his thought process had been back then: if he looked like Remus, he could teach almost as well as him.</p><p>“You believe McGonagall’s offer still stands?” Harry wondered out loud. </p><p>“Yes,” Malfoy replied almost immediately. “People are still wary about the teaching post. So, they’ve just been getting retired Aurors to teach the subject every other year or so. McGonagall wants someone who actually really wants to teach, though, you know? Someone who can stay for a long time and really get to know the students. That could be you.”</p><p>Harry nodded slowly. He didn’t want to be too honest about how much he wanted it, but at this point, it must be obvious to Malfoy. </p><p>“She wouldn’t just take any teacher who’s willing to stay either. Not like she’d be settling for you,” Malfoy added. “The lot you were teaching - the D.A., right? - held their own so well during the battle because of you. You completed the Auror program. And that’s not mentioning that you saved the wizarding world. Trust me, Potter, if you ask she’ll give that position to you.”</p><p>He beamed, appreciating how much effort Malfoy was putting into convincing him he would be good at it. “I guess… I just have some stuff to sort out before I can even consider asking her. Like my job at the bookshop, how much I’ll get to see Teddy, and…” Harry trailed off, suddenly feeling like he backed himself up into a corner.</p><p>“And the fact you haven’t been using magic for a while now?”</p><p>Harry dropped the pictures he had in his hands as he felt his skin grow cold. Not a lot of people knew or noticed. Just Andromeda, Ron, and Hermione. “What? No, I…”</p><p>Malfoy gave him a look, and Harry instantly knew he should just give it a rest. How easily Malfoy read people - read <em> him - </em> was going to take some time to get used to. </p><p>“How did you know?”</p><p>“You don’t carry your wand with you anymore. You ride that death trap of a bike everywhere instead of Apparating. You’re out of breath from cleaning and moving furniture around because you did all this without magic,” Malfoy listed off, gesturing around the room to punctuate his last point. </p><p>Now that Malfoy mentioned it, Harry realized how much he was sweating and how tired he felt. “That obvious, huh?”</p><p>Malfoy snorted. “No one just <em> forgets </em>their wand.”</p><p>“Fair.”</p><p>“How long?”</p><p>“Since the last case I worked on. Dolohov. I got him cornered, but when it was time to stun and arrest him, I just froze. Ever since, the idea of trying to do magic has just felt so... exhausting to me. Like, I <em> know </em>I can still do it. It’s just… It’s one more thing that reminds me of everything I’m trying to run away from.” </p><p>Malfoy scooted around the pile, which was barely a pile anymore with only a few stray items left, getting closer to Harry and placing a comforting hand on Harry’s knee. “You’ll get the hang of it again. It’ll be easier.”</p><p>Weirdly enough, Harry found himself believing him as soon as he said it. Malfoy withdrew his hand, and suddenly Harry felt very aware of the part of his leg that Malfoy had touched. As if his senses were concentrated in that one spot. He wasn’t sure why. </p><p>“Thanks, Malfoy,” he muttered. “If you told me years ago that I’d end up trusting you this much, I would have laughed at your face.”</p><p>Malfoy chuckled. “I’m still surprised you do. Did Andromeda really give that much of a glowing review?”</p><p>Harry wanted to say <em> No, that wouldn’t have been enough, but you keep saying the right thing and making me feel the right way. </em> He wanted to say <em> Trusting new people outside the circle I’ve had for over a decade now has been difficult lately, but you’re legitimately good and kind and genuine in a way that makes it easy. </em> He wanted to say <em> I’m starting to realize that we were both just pawns on different sides of the war and maybe that explains why I believe you actually do understand me.  </em></p><p>But Harry figured that was too much. And too real. And that it wasn’t even something he’d say aloud to himself. So, instead, he rolled his eyes, and said, “Sort of.”</p><p>Malfoy picked up the last item on the floor. It was a black leather jacket. The one Harry sees Sirius wearing in many of his old photos from when he was a teenager. “Keep?”</p><p>“Definitely,” he answered, taking it from him and placing it in the box. He stared at the contents and hoped that Malfoy wasn’t judging him for how much of Sirius’ things he had decided to keep. “Well, I reckon that’s enough for tonight. I’m knackered.”</p><p>Malfoy nodded. “We can paint the walls and deal with the extra furniture some other time.”</p><p>Harry looked up at him, in disbelief that he actually wanted to keep helping him. “Yeah… Yeah, we can... Are you heading out?”</p><p>“Mhmm. Promised Astoria I’d get breakfast with her early tomorrow before her shift starts.” </p><p>“Alright, then. Thank you. Again.”</p><p>Malfoy shrugged. “No problem.” He stood up and extended a hand to Harry. </p><p>Harry grabbed his hand and was pulled up, ending up face to face to Malfoy. This close, in the moonlight, he noticed how Malfoy’s grey eyes somehow gleamed with warmth. Harry had always thought the color made the boy look more stoic and cold. It was different now. </p><p>As he stared at him, Harry almost missed the slightest brush of Malfoy’s thumb against his knuckles. He found himself thinking he liked the way Malfoy’s skin felt. It was a weird thought. Harry had never been a tactile person, but these little touches felt charged with comfort.</p><p>Malfoy then coughed and dropped Harry’s hand. “Sorry, I’m just… A bit sleepy, I think.”</p><p>Harry put his hands in his pockets and smiled. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”</p><hr/><p>Harry leaned against the doorframe of Sirius’ room after Malfoy left. It already looked a bit different. Not just cleaner but lighter, with all Sirius’ possessions packed neatly into the box they had left in the hallway. It was now a blank canvas for new, happy memories.</p><p>It was hard to see that the Malfoy who had made his life so much harder during the war was the same person who had just spent his night off cleaning up a room with him and making him believe things were going to be okay. Harry now realized how ridiculous it was that he was so pained about his dad and Sirius being complete tossers at the age of 15. </p><p>People really do change. And grow. Maybe it was about time he gave the ones around him a true, genuine chance to get to know the person he was now. And trust that they’ve also changed enough to not see him as the savior he was at seventeen, even if they were there to experience that part of his life more intimately than anyone else.</p><p>Harry sighed and closed the door before jogging down the stairs and into his study. He sat at his desk, fumbling with Ron’s letter again. It was late, and he needed to be up early for work tomorrow morning, but he couldn’t help it.</p><p>He picked up the telephone and dialled. It only rang twice before Ron answered.</p><p>“Hello?”</p><p>Harry smiled, suddenly remembering the first time Ron had tried to call him when Harry was staying at the Dursleys.</p><p>“Hey Ron.”</p><p>“Harry? Are you alright, mate? It’s…” Harry could hear shuffling on the other side of the line. “It’s one in the morning.”</p><p>“Yeah, I know, I know. I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”</p><p>“No, actually. I’m going over a case… But are you okay?”</p><p>“I am… I just... Had the urge to call you. And tell you I’m sorry that I haven’t reached out to you two in a while.”</p><p>“Oh, come on, mate. You know ‘Mione and I want to give you all the space you need.”</p><p>“Well, you still deserve to hear from me from time to time.”</p><p>“That’s true. Make sure you aren’t dead or anything. With that bloody bike and all.”</p><p>Harry laughed. “Exactly.”</p><p>“You sound well,” Ron said in a voice so soft and relieved that it made Harry’s heart ache with the realization of just how much he really missed him and Hermione. </p><p>“Yeah. I’ve been feeling better lately. A lot better.”</p><p>“That’s great. Well enough to…” he trailed off, the tone of hopefulness not lost on Harry.</p><p>“Well enough to see you lot, yeah. I feel like… Like this time I can actually keep the momentum of meeting up with and talking to other people once I try again. So, I reckon I should. And I want to.”</p><p>“That’s brilliant,” Ron said. Harry could hear a smile in his voice. “I’ll check with Hermione for when she’s free and let you know.”</p><p>“Yeah, definitely.”</p><p>“Harry… I’m glad you called.”</p><p>“You and I both. I miss you and Hermione a lot… Thanks for always trying to reach out. It means a lot, especially when I’ve been a crap friend.”</p><p>“You have <em> not </em> been a crap friend.”</p><p>Harry wanted to tell Ron that it was okay. That he has been pretty terrible at being a friend lately. But Ron sounded tired, and he knew that Ron would stay on the line for hours convincing Harry that he did nothing wrong. So, Harry didn’t argue. “Anyway, I should really go now. I have work tomorrow.”</p><p>“Alright, mate. I’ll write you soon. Or Hermione will text you with that bloody mobile of hers.”</p><p>“And I’ll respond this time. I swear.”</p><p>Ron chuckled. “Good.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>- harry is an oblivious bi. my fave kind of harry.<br/>- yes when i said slow burn i meant Slowwww Burn<br/>- thank you so much for the comments and kudos!!!!!! i truly appreciate it</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. is this too...is this too much?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Draco realizes that he's in too deep, and Harry is NOT making things any easier.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Is this okay?” Potter asked.</p><p>Draco turned around and saw that he was leaning against the huge wooden wardrobe and panting. “I said to the left. <em> My </em> left.”</p><p>“You’re a tyrant.”</p><p>“Always the drama queen.”</p><p>This has been the new norm that they had settled into for the past three weeks. He had never thought that he and Potter could ever be mates before, and now here he was, spending his weekends - and sometimes even weekday nights, straight from work - helping him remodel a room and getting lost in banters and quips and teasing.</p><p>Draco watched Potter roll his eyes and begin to push the wardrobe towards the other wall. He knew that he could help and get the job done with just a few flicks of a wand. But, as his gaze dragged along the flexed muscles of Potter’s arms and the sweat dripping down his neck, Draco figured he didn’t feel <em> that </em>guilty about sitting this one out. </p><p>When Potter managed to slide the wardrobe against the corner like Draco had asked him to, he wiped the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand. “Better?”</p><p>“Mhmm.”</p><p>Potter straightened and clapped his hands. “Brilliant! Quick break?” </p><p>Draco went back to hammering nails into the wall for the framed pictures Potter wanted to hang up. “Just because Teddy is perfectly fine sleeping in your room doesn’t mean we can keep procrastinating.”</p><p>Teddy has been loving sleeping in the same room as his godfather whenever he stayed over, and Potter was more than happy to oblige. But they both knew that he couldn’t baby and share a room with Teddy forever.</p><p>“We don’t procrastinate that much.”</p><p>Draco snorted.</p><p>Most days, Draco would come over to help with Teddy’s room. This, of course, meant working for 20 minutes maximum. Then, they would spend the next five hours eating takeaway while Potter made him watch his favorite Muggle films or having a beer at the kitchen table while they talked and argued over dumb things. They were especially unproductive whenever Teddy was staying over and demanded that they play with him at all times.</p><p>Draco didn’t really mind. He just knew that if he was going to keep hiding his feelings, which is definitely the plan, he had to pretend he did. </p><p>Most of the time, it wasn’t so bad. Draco knew how to treat him like any other friend. But, sometimes, he would blush too hard when Potter was close. Sometimes, Potter would tease him about zoning out so much, because that was the excuse Draco used when he was caught staring. Sometimes, when he touched Potter, a friendly pat on the shoulder or an accidental graze of a hand, Draco would find himself lingering for a few seconds before he could stop himself. </p><p>They were little things, but he knew that they were telling. Potter, thankfully, seemed to be the most oblivious person in the world. </p><p>“There’s a reason it took us almost two weeks just to paint the walls,” Draco quipped without looking back, but he could hear Potter groan as soon as he said it.</p><p>And either because he was hungry or because he had quickly learned these past few weeks that he was near incapable of saying no to the man, Draco sighed and turned around. “Okay, fine. We’re almost done anyway. And I suppose it <em> is </em>time for lunch.”</p><p>Potter beamed. “Exactly.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Draco didn’t realize that he’d been eating his food without saying a single word for about five minutes now until Potter laughed.</p><p>As he swallowed a mouthful of the spaghetti bolognese Potter had whipped up for them he looked across the kitchen table and scrunched up his nose as if to say <em> Oh, right, sorry. </em></p><p>Potter huffed in amusement. “You were starving and still wanted us to keep working?”</p><p>“Well, <em> one </em> of us had to have some semblance of discipline,” Draco replied, wiping sauce from his mouth with a paper napkin. “Besides, this is actually...not terrible.”</p><p>“I<em> told </em>you I could cook. And all of those times you rejected my food... ” Potter let out an exaggerated sigh.</p><p>“Oh, that was <em> once. </em> And in my defense, I had just finished a 12-hour shift and felt like throwing up from exhaustion. Didn’t exactly have a big appetite then.”</p><p>Potter frowned. “...You what? You didn’t tell me that. Why’d you come over anyway?”</p><p>Draco froze halfway into bringing a forkful of pasta to his mouth again. He put it down, keeping his eyes on his plate. “Oh, you know, I just...didn’t realize how tired I was.” </p><p>That was a lie. He remembered that night. He had felt like death, but when he had dropped by the bookshop after his shift to cancel, the way Potter’s eyes had lit up at the sight of Draco just wasn’t something he had enough willpower to walk away from. </p><p>“Do you get shifts like that often?”</p><p>“Oh, Merlin, no. There was just a dragon pox outbreak in a nearby town that week,” he replied before sipping at his drink and looking Potter in the eye as he relaxed. “I usually don’t even have to work the full eight hours most days because I’m technically just the Potions apprentice. I just stay a little longer if there’s anything the kids’ need.”</p><p>“That’s good. Just wanted to know if I should be feeling guilty about all the unpaid labor I’ve been making you do,” Potter said, grinning. </p><p>“You pay me in alcohol,” Draco replied, pausing to twirl another forkful of pasta and raising it for emphasis, “And food. So, I’m not complaining.”</p><p>Potter laughed. “Good.”</p><p>“How’d you learn?”</p><p>He shrugged. “I knew the basics growing up because my aunt and uncle would make me cook in the mornings. But I only learned how to cook food that isn’t breakfast from Molly. I was going back and forth the Burrow and Andromeda’s during the first few months after the war ended. When I decided to really live on my own, Molly said she wouldn’t let me unless she was sure I wasn’t going to live off fast food takeaway and microwave meals.”</p><p>Draco was about to ask what, exactly, were microwave meals, but decided he was more interested in the fond look on Potter’s face. “D’you miss them? The Weasleys?”</p><p>“Yeah.” Potter sighed. “ have visited a few times since...you know. It’s just that I can't bring myself to do so as often as I tell Molly and Arthur I would. But I’m trying.”</p><p>“I mean, you’ve seen Weasley and Granger a few times this past month, right? You’re doing good.”</p><p>He smiled, nodding. “Yeah. I suppose I am. We still can’t meet up quite as much because their schedules are dreadful, and Hermione especially is always working. But it’s a start and-”</p><p>There was a thud against the table as Potter accidentally nudged his glass over, getting water all over his shirt. </p><p>“Crap!”</p><p>Draco laughed. “Ever so graceful.”</p><p>Potter made a face at him as he tried to dab at his shirt with a paper towel. </p><p>“That’s obviously not going to work, Potter. Let me…” Draco offered, already pulling his wand out.</p><p>“It’s fine.” Potter put his hands over his shoulders to grab the back of his shirt before pulling it off. “I wanted to change before working on the room again anyway.”</p><p>Draco stopped laughing immediately, coughing in an attempt to not choke on his food right then and there. Suddenly it felt like his eyes had not seen anything before this: Potter’s broad shoulders. A toned chest, his brown skin speckled with hair. The deep contour of the muscles on his abdomen, so defined he might as well have been flexing. A trail of hair running down his torso and disappearing into his trousers...</p><p>Draco averted his eyes, swallowing hard to get the food in his mouth down.</p><p>“I’ll be back, yeah?” </p><p>He didn’t respond but looked up just a few seconds later as Potter left the kitchen, hoping that he hadn’t noticed the effect his shirtlessness had on him.</p><p>He groaned, burying his face in his hands. Draco wasn’t sure how long he could keep this up. </p><p>When Potter came back, he was wearing a dark green and gold Holyhead Harpies jumper. There was something scribbled with ink just below the logo. A name with a little heart at the end. Draco didn’t have to squint to figure it was Ginny Weasley’s signature. </p><p>“Bit ironic, isn’t it?” Draco had meant it to be teasing, but as soon as he said it he was immediately scared that it sounded the tiniest bit bitter. </p><p>“What? It’s comfortable. Not gonna throw out perfectly valuable Quidditch merchandise just because we broke up.”</p><p>“Have you...er...seen anyone since?” Draco asked before he could stop himself. It was the first time she had come up in their conversations in a while, and Draco wanted a reason to bring up what he’d been wondering.</p><p>Potter shrugged, taking a seat. “A few very short-lived flings… Some dates and hookups here and there. All Muggles of course.”</p><p>Draco laughed, making sure there was no hint of jealousy in his expression as he did. “Merlin, can you imagine what dating someone from the wizarding world would mean for you?”</p><p>Chuckling, Potter took another bite of the pasta. “‘Course,” he managed to say, his mouth still full. </p><p>There was sauce dripping down from the corner of Potter’s lip. Draco couldn’t help but let his eyes follow the movement of Potter’s tongue as it darted out his mouth to lick it off. He watched Potter’s throat as he swallowed.</p><p>“I mean,” Potter continued, “A part of me will always worry that I’ll go on a date with a witch, shag them, and see Rita Skeeter writing about it two days later because she’s got an ‘inside source.’”</p><p>Draco snorted. “I can imagine.”</p><p>Potter smiled, but it faded away in moments. “Really, though. I don’t know if it’s just because I’m scared of the wizarding world in general right now. But unless I end up with Ginny again, which I doubt, I can’t imagine being with anyone who knows who I am.”</p><p>Draco felt a drop in his stomach. He knew how that felt, and the many times he has proven himself right. The number of blokes who were with him because they were curious about the mysterious Draco Malfoy was disheartening. Boys that actually fancied him for him were too few and far apart. And even then it never lasted long enough to matter.</p><p>“I think that you’re capable of trusting people more than you’re aware of... And that more people are deserving of that trust than you believe.”</p><p>Potter looked up at him curiously, smirking slightly. “Merlin, I don’t know when I’ll start getting used to you doing that.”</p><p>“Doing what?”</p><p>“Being a complete sap,” Potter said, his face looking smug.</p><p>Draco rolled his eyes. “This is why I <em> despise </em> being nice to you.”</p><p>Potter laughed, and Draco couldn’t help but smile at the sound. He liked making him laugh. </p><p>“But anyway, it’s not like my love life is exactly my priority now,” Potter said, shaking his head. </p><p>Draco chuckled nervously. “Of course… Er, have you written McGonagall like I told you?” he asked, desperate to change the subject.</p><p>He snorted. “And say what? ‘Hi professor. Sorry for responding a year late. I was having a crisis. Can I please still have the job even though I had a mental breakdown that has left me unable to use magic without spiralling into an anxiety attack? Thanks.’”</p><p>“You’re being dramatic again. I’m just asking!”</p><p>Potter’s shoulders relaxed. “Ugh, I know. I really just don’t think I can write her if I don’t know whether I can actually follow through this time. Especially with whatever’s going on with my magic. I can’t disappoint another person.”</p><p>Draco sighed. “I understand.”</p><p>“But… I’ll think about it.”</p><p>“You should.”</p><p>Potter smirked. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you just want to work with me because you’d miss me otherwise.”</p><p>Draco felt the thrum against his chest speed up. “Oh, sod off.”</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
That night, they both sat cross-legged next to each other against the wall of Teddy’s new room. </p><p>The furniture was refurbished and shining like they were new, all moved to the right places. The bed was clean and soft, with thick blue sheets and comforters neatly made. One of the walls was covered in floating shelves, still empty but ready for Teddy’s books and toys. Light blue was painted all over the walls, making the room look like the sky on a nice summer’s day. The floor was covered in a carpet that was a darker shade of blue, almost like the night, and had a constellation pattern.</p><p>They had spent the whole afternoon working on the last part of the room: the window seat they had built for the huge bay window. It was white to match the windows, and the cushions were in varying shades of purple. Draco couldn’t wait to see what it would like in the sunlight.</p><p>Knees and shoulders touching, they sat in silence, admiring their work.</p><p>“We did a brilliant job.” Potter raised his bottle of beer toward Draco, and Draco clinked it together with his.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah we did.”</p><p>“Just need to fill the walls with pictures and the wardrobe with his clothes…” Potter said, taking a swig from his bottle. “Oh, and toys and books…”</p><p>Draco looked at him. “You’re going to get him a duplicate of everything he already owns at Andromeda’s, aren’t you?”</p><p>He looked at the room dreamily. “That way he won’t have to carry his stuff back and forth!”</p><p>Draco shook his head. “You spoil that kid so much.”</p><p>“Psh… He deserves it.”</p><p>“Yeah, he does.” </p><p>Draco took another gulp of beer, his elbows brushing against Potter’s arm as he did. Potter rested his wrist on the knee that was touching Draco’s. Draco could feel the warmth of Potter’s hand and the cold of the bottle he held in it. </p><p>Draco liked this closeness. Every touch could be read as innocent. Accidental. </p><p>“The past few weeks have been pretty fun,” Potter said, his other hand tracing a constellation on the carpet. </p><p>“They have. You’re not bad, Potter.”</p><p>Potter nudged him playfully with his elbow. “You too, Malfoy.”</p><p>They stayed quiet for a few moments, staring at the way the moonlight illuminates a patch of the floor. The constellations on the carpet glow. </p><p>“Are you coming over tomorrow?” Potter asked.</p><p>“Oh… Need help watching Teddy?”</p><p>“What? No, I was going to show you a few new movies I got.”</p><p>The truth was that this caught Draco off guard. A small part of him had been worrying that remodeling the room was the only thing they could bond over other than Teddy himself. He now realized that it was sort of ridiculous to think so when most of the time they had been spending together was outside this room. </p><p>“I wish I could, but I promised mother I’d spend time with her tomorrow. I guess I haven’t been home that much.”</p><p>“Yeah… ‘Cause you’re a tad bit obsessed with me.”</p><p>Draco almost choked on his drink and felt his face go red. “You are <em> aggravating </em>.” </p><p>Potter laughed, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
“I didn’t think you’d still be up,” Draco said as he walked into the kitchen to find his mother nursing a glass of wine at the kitchen island. She was in silk pyjamas, and her long blonde hair was neatly braided down her back. He was always stunned at how regal she looked, even now, in her sleepwear at midnight. </p><p>She beamed at him, her eyes lighting up. “Darling, you’re home.”</p><p>Draco kissed her on the cheek. “Were you waiting up for me?” He pulled up a stool and sat next to her. </p><p>“Oh, no, don’t worry, dear. I’m having a horrid migraine. I just drank what was left of the potion you made for me yesterday. I was waiting until it took effect before I went back to bed.”</p><p>Draco eyed her glass. “Did you really have to chase it down with<em> that </em>?”</p><p>His mother grinned. “Well, I don’t recall you telling me it was off-limits.”</p><p>“Hah. Alright then.”</p><p>“Did you come from Potter’s place again?”</p><p>“Er, yeah…”</p><p>She squinted at him. “You two have been spending quite some time together.”</p><p>Draco laughed nervously. “Yeah? I- I suppose… I haven’t noticed.”</p><p>“You’re not usually a people person. Astoria’s your best friend, and you don’t spend nearly as much time with <em> her. </em>”</p><p>“We see enough of each other at work.” Which was right, but he knew his mother had a point. He’d seen Potter five times this week. In between pretending that they were going to work on Teddy’s room and going to support group meetings together, they haven’t really been apart that much since the first time he came over. </p><p>She still looked unconvinced. “... You two are getting along quite a bit, then?”</p><p>He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I guess.”</p><p>“And you’ve looked so much happier and more at ease these past few weeks…” She was looking down at her glass of wine, tracing the rim with her finger, but Draco could tell she was still watching him carefully from her periphery. “Humming to yourself in the morning, less jumpy, a spring in your step…”</p><p>Draco groaned, blood rushing to his cheeks. “What exactly are you trying to tell me, mother?”</p><p>She sighed and finally turned to him. “You <em> know </em>what I’m trying to tell you, dear.”</p><p>He wanted to play dumb, but his mother’s knowing stare was too much. “It’s not like that.”</p><p>“Are you sure?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. </p><p>“He’s <em> straight </em>, mother.”</p><p>“Exactly.”</p><p>“And I... I don’t fancy him,” Draco insisted as convincingly as he could, although even he could hear his voice crack the tiniest bit. “He’s just... We’re really good friends now.” </p><p>“I don’t want you to get hurt.”</p><p>The worry in his mother’s eyes and the softness that crept into her voice got to him. He couldn’t keep lying. </p><p>“I... I won’t.” </p><p>“I know that you're an adult now and that you’ve dealt with heartbreak before. And while being in the public eye, at that. You’re resilient. And smart. And these are experiences you’re meant to have at your age...But this is different. For sure, you know that too, don’t you, darling?”</p><p>Draco felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Of course he knew it. </p><p>“Your pasts are so entangled already,” his mother continued, brushing hair away from his face. “And with Teddy and my sister in the picture, so are your lives now. So, you can’t just...choose to never see him again if you get hurt this time.”</p><p>Draco wanted to feel angry at his mother. Wanted to ask why she was ruining a good thing. But he also knew that her concerns were valid. She was right. When it came to Draco’s dating life, she usually was. </p><p>“It’s fine, mother. It’s just a little crush. Nothing more.” Draco didn’t know just how deep his feelings ran. But he knew he was lying when he said it. </p><p>She took a deep breath and gave Draco a small smile. “Alright. If you say so.”</p><p>“You really were waiting up for me, weren’t you?”</p><p>She scrunched up her nose. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t put off checking up on you ‘til the morning. Also, I was a bit concerned. You were gone from eight in the morning to midnight. You’ve never spent that much time out of the house unless it’s for work,” she said with an accusing look on her face. </p><p>“What? We finished the room! That’s all.”</p><p>She shook her head and finished the last of her wine before standing up. She ruffled his hair as she passed him. “Alright, darling. Like I said, just be careful.” </p><p>And with that, she walked out of the kitchen.</p>
<hr/><p>As Draco read the patient’s chart before him, he lined up the bottles of ingredients on the tray. “I’ve brewed this alternative before with Rathbone’s approval, and it worked, so I’m certain it’s safe. Tastes and feels exactly like the one you’re looking for. The ingredients won’t react funny with the several potions he’s already taking for the internal bleeding, unlike most pain relief potions. I’ll have it ready by the time your patient is finished with his dinner later and bring it by after checking on the kids.”</p><p>Astoria, who was sitting on the other side of the brewing table Draco was working on, shrieked in joy and threw her arms up. “<em> Thank </em> you! Now that prick can stop calling me useless when I tell him I can’t give him his favorite pain relief potion.”</p><p>Draco grimaced. “Bold of him to say that when your team kept him from, you know, dying.”</p><p>“Three years of Auror training… You’d think some of those courses would be dedicated to teaching those arseholes to be decent to other human beings.”</p><p>He snorted, handing her a piece of parchment. “Anyway, if the tosser has any questions, here are some of my notes on the ingredients.”</p><p>After scanning the paper, she looked up. “This is impressive stuff, Draco.”</p><p>Draco blushed, but he just shrugged. “It’s nothing. Been studying this for years, and it’s the least of what I’m expected to know if I’m going to actually <em> teach </em> Potions <em> . </em>”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah,” waving her hand in dismissal of Draco’s attempt to be modest. “I just forget how advanced the things you deal with are. I mean, the older trainee Healers told me your apprenticeship was supposed to just involve following a bunch of instructions from pages Healers tell you to look up. And you’re here creating your own potions and improving the ones they’ve been using for years. That’s bloody impressive.”</p><p>He peered at her curiously for a few moments, then rolled his eyes when he realized what she was doing. “You heard that the hospital wants to give me the full-time Potioneer position.”</p><p>Astoria raised her eyebrows, obviously feigning surprise. “They are?!”</p><p>Draco gave her a look before returning his attention to the patient chart. He heard her groan.</p><p>“Okay, fine.” She reached over the table to pinch him by the cheek and force him to look at her. “But would that be the worst thing? It’s a great job.”</p><p>Swatting her hand away, he sighs. “If I accept the offer, I’ll just be stuck in this room eight hours a day. No more talking to patients and helping the Muggle-born kids that end up here. I want something more hands on. I want to teach.”</p><p>“I know, I know.” Astoria sits back down on her stool tilting her head with an exaggerated pout. “I’ll miss you. Don’t wanna go through the rest of my training without being able to complain to you.”</p><p>Draco’s face softened. “I’ll miss you too. You’ll probably write me every day to complain anyway.”</p><p>She grinned. “You know me well... I guess Hogwarts is a way cooler place to work in anyway. I miss the food. The food is definitely a point for Hogwarts.”</p><p>Draco chuckled as he started unstoppering some of the ingredient bottles for the potion. “That’s true.”</p><p>“And the grounds are so beautiful. Such breathtaking scenery…”</p><p>“Yeah,” he mumbled, only half listening now as he murmured an <em> incendio </em> to start the fire of his cauldron.</p><p>“And it’s near Hogsmeade…”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“And I heard next year’s Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is gorgeous.”</p><p>“Ye- Wait, what?” His head snapped up. </p><p>Astoria started laughing, crossing her arms and shaking her head. </p><p>He glared at her. “Why do I tell you things?”</p><p>She shrugged as she started to put her dark brown hair up in a ponytail as she always did when it was nearly time for her to get back to her shift after a break. “You love me.”</p><p> “Potter isn’t even sure he’s going to try for the job next year,” Draco said, feeling the burn in his cheeks as he returned his attention to the potion he was starting. “And even if he was, he is <em> not </em>one of the reasons I’m choosing Hogwarts.”</p><p>“I know, but it must be a perk to have free boarding at the castle with your <em> boyfriend </em>,” she said, half-singing the last word.</p><p>“Not my boyfriend,” he said, exasperated, but feeling a brief hum of excitement at the fleeting thought of the idea. He took a deep breath. <em> No, Draco. No. </em></p><p>“You know, you used to never get this flustered when I teased you about boys,” she said, leaning over and propping herself up on her elbows. “When you told me you two started hanging out and that you just had a tiny crush on him, I believed you. But now…This dreamy look when you space out...Spending practically whole weeks with the bloke...”</p><p>“It’s <em> still </em>a tiny crush. He’s just fit! You said so too.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t stay up until midnight multiple times talking about my deepest fears and desires with a bloke if I thought he was ‘just fit.’ You are definitely in too deep, my friend.”</p><p>Before Draco could retort, there was a knock on the door.</p><p>A younger girl that Draco recognized from the reception desk entered the room with a parcel in her hands. “Draco Malfoy?”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“There was an owl for you,” she said as she walked over and handed it to him. </p><p>With furrowed brows, he nodded. “Oh...Thanks!”</p><p>She smiled at him hesitantly - the way most people he didn’t talk to at work did - and left the room. </p><p>Astoria poked at the parcel. “What is it?”</p><p>Draco shrugged as he undid the twine that tied up the packaging. Inside was a red pastry box with a swirly white pattern on it and a card that said “Malfoy” on it. He turned the card over.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Malfoy, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I was trying out the Muggle bakery you suggested during my lunch break, and I realized that I never actually thanked you after we finished Teddy’s room. So, this is my thank you. It really meant a lot. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> -HP </em>
</p><p>
  <em> P.S. If you tease me about this, I will murder you. I’m trying to be nice! </em>
</p><p>Draco’s heart started speeding up, and with panicked eyes, his head whipped to Astoria who had already opened the box and taken one of the chocolate cupcakes out. </p><p>“I...This is…” Draco stammered, before letting out a long exhale. “This is a normal friend thing to do, right?”</p><p>Astoria took a bite, closing her eyes and humming in pleasure at the taste. “I missed this place. I’m getting a box for myself on my way home.”</p><p>“Astoria!”</p><p>She opened her eyes and set down the cupcake. “Maybe I just have crap mates, but none of them have ever sent me pastries in cutesy packaging in the middle of the workday. Actually, now that I think of it, none of my exes have either. Or <em> yours </em>, for that matter” she said with a sly smile. </p><p>Draco traced the edges of the card. <em> Who </em> does <em> this? </em></p><p>The way his heart fluttered in his chest terrified him. It was taking everything in him to fight the urge to take the rest of the day off, barge into the bookshop while Potter was working, and kiss him full on the mouth. </p><p>“He said his friends always sent him pastries and stuff during the summer holidays when we were back in school. Maybe this is just something their lot does.”</p><p>Astoria scoffed. “Yeah, when they were away from each other for months. You’re literally seeing him after your shift, and he still walked his arse over to an owl post office to send this to you. <em> That </em>is boyfriend behaviour.”</p><p>Draco shook his head and put the note down. “I’m overthinking this. I need to get back to work.”</p>
<hr/><p>Draco walked up the steps, wondering where Potter was. He had told Draco yesterday when they were watching a movie that he should come over because Teddy always asked for him now. Smiling at the thought of his nephew eagerly looking for him, he hastened his pace. </p><p>As he reached the second floor and heard Teddy’s giggle down the hall, he realized he'd only ever seen the bedrooms on the fourth floor. He didn’t know what any of these other rooms were. Judging by the dust collecting on some of the doorknobs, most of them were unused. </p><p>When he reached the source of the sound, an open room, Draco could swear he was going to die right then and there. </p><p>Potter, shirtless and wearing a rather fitted pair of exercise shorts, was doing press-ups with Teddy sitting on his back and laughing. </p><p>Draco could feel how frozen his feet were to the floor and became aware of how dry his throat had suddenly gotten. The universe was just toying with him at this point. </p><p>He knew that he should say something, let his presence be known. But as he watched Potter grunt while sweat dripped from his muscled arms, Draco was certain any noise that came out of his mouth would not be comprehensible. </p><p>Teddy laughed. “You’re getting slow!”</p><p>“Well, maybe if you didn’t get on top of me-”</p><p>Teddy gasped as he looked up and noticed Draco in the doorway, hopping off his godfather. “UNCLE DWACO!”</p><p>Draco stumbled backwards as Teddy practically jumped into his arms. He caught his nephew more out of instinct than awareness because his eyes were still glued on Potter.</p><p>Potter’s eyes snapped up from the spot on the floor he seemed to be focusing on. “Wha-”</p><p>Then, there was a loud thud as his hand slipped and he fell hard on his shoulder, rolling onto his back.</p><p>“BLOODY FUCKING-” he stopped as he saw Teddy on the verge of laughter. “Don’t tell your grandmother I said that in front of you.”</p><p>Draco set a giggling Teddy down. “Hey, I got you Chocolate Frogs. They’re on the coffee table. Why don’t you go have some?”</p><p>Teddy’s eyes widened before he rushed out of the room.</p><p>Draco turned back to Potter and crouched down to help. </p><p>“I was going to give it to him after dinner, but I wanted him out of the room. In case you wanted to swear more. Andromeda would kill you.” He grabbed Potter by the arm he didn’t land on and his torso, feeling like his fingers were screaming at the touch of Potter’s bare waist, and guided him to a sitting position. “You’re such a clumsy mess.”</p><p>“Sod off. I just didn’t hear you coming in.”</p><p>Draco knelt next to Potter, peering at the shoulder he landed on. “Is your shoulder okay? You landed on it pretty hard with your arm in a weird position.”</p><p>Potter tried to raise his right arm and immediately winced. “FUCK!”</p><p>Draco grimaced at the thought of how painful it must be. “Easy there, sit still, let me…” He took his wand out and whispered an incantation as he dragged the tip from the right side of Potter’s neck, down to his shoulder, and all the way to his elbow.</p><p>“This makes everything make sense now,” Draco said before thinking, gesturing around the room with his other hand as he repeated the motion of his wand. The Auror program explained why Potter was in good shape. But seeing him shirtless for the first time days ago had made Draco wonder how he was still <em> that </em> fit when Potter had quit a year ago.</p><p>Potter raised his eyebrows. “Is that a compliment?”</p><p>Draco wanted to punch himself in the face. “Oh, shut up. I was simply wondering what you were doing with all that pent up energy if you aren’t using magic anymore.”</p><p>Potter, luckily, seemed to buy it.</p><p>“Yeah,” he said. “It also calms me down on bad days…And being in good shape when I’m expected to keep up with a four-year-old all day helps too.”</p><p>Draco nodded, pocketing his wand. “How’s your arm? Better?” he asked, desperate for a change of topic.</p><p>He tried to raise his arm again, successfully this time, but his face still crumpled up in pain. “A little.”</p><p>“Do you have any potions here?”</p><p>“There’s a bunch of healing stuff over there,” Potter said, motioning his head to the direction of a cupboard on the other side of the room. “‘Mione whipped them up for the injury I got on my last mission a year ago. Some of them are still good. I think.”</p><p>Draco got up and walked over to open it. There were different labelled vials and jars filled with various liquids, powders, and gels sitting on the shelves. After going through a few, he settled for a jar of paste-like substance that he used at the hospital for injuries like this.</p><p>He grabbed it and returned to Potter’s side, sitting back on his heels and unscrewing the lid off the jar. He dipped his fingers in to get a dollop of the paste and brought it to Potter’s shoulder, slowly spreading it throughout that area. </p><p>There was a tiny hitch in his breath as he applied it onto the toned curves of Potter’s shoulders. If Potter noticed, he didn’t say anything. </p><p>“Thanks,” Potter murmured, looking up at him. </p><p>Draco just realized then that Potter wasn’t wearing his glasses. He always forgot how much more vivid the green in his eyes looked when he didn’t have them on. Draco flashed him a quick smile before forcing his attention back to the paste he was applying. “You’re welcome.”</p><p>“We keep finding ourselves like this,” Potter said with a huff of amusement. </p><p>“Well, maybe if you didn’t keep injuring yourself…” He couldn’t help it. As he spread the paste down Potter’s arms, he met his gaze again. Potter was smiling at him, eyes bright and crinkled at the corners. </p><p>“Hey, if I didn’t cut my hand that night, we wouldn’t be friends now.”</p><p>Draco snorted. “Fair.” He tried, but he couldn’t look away from him. Their faces were so close, and his hand was still massaging the paste onto Potter’s upper arm. It was too much, but he couldn’t stop.</p><p>Potter’s teasing smile started to fade away, his expression now softer, more unsure. But he didn’t look away either. His green eyes looked like they were searching for something, trying to understand something, that he wasn’t aware of yet. </p><p>Draco studied the way Potter gazed back at him, feeling paralyzed just at the sight of the other boy looking at him so intently, lips parted and breathing still staggered from his workout. It was too much. He needed to say something. <em> Anything.  </em></p><p>He pulled back, taking his hand off Potter's arm. Draco opened his mouth but nothing came out. </p><p>Potter blinked a few times, shaking his head slightly. “Ah...Sorry. Don’t know what that was.”</p><p>“You’re just dizzy and zoning out. Must have overexerted yourself,” he said in a tone as sure as he could manage despite the fact he was confused too. What <em> was </em>that?</p><p>“Blame Teddy. He’s heavier than he looks.” He still looked disoriented as he sat up straighter and tried moving his arm. </p><p>“How is it?”</p><p>“A bit sore, but a lot better. Thank you,” he said, punctuating his thanks by touching Draco lightly on the wrist. </p><p>It must have only lasted a second, but Draco could suddenly feel nothing else but that touch.</p><p>“No problem.”</p><p>“You’re a great person to have around, you know that?” Potter suddenly asked, out of nowhere.</p><p>Draco tried to play it cool, miserably aware of how fast his heart was beating. “Fancy having a personal Healer, do you?”</p><p>He expected Potter to make a face and retort with a snarky comment, but he just beamed at Draco, eyes sincere. “No. Just in general.”</p><p>“Okay, now <em> you’re </em> being a sap,” he complained, hoping Potter wasn’t paying attention to Draco’s hands, trembling from how much he was holding back right at that moment.</p><p>Potter snickered. “Guess I am feeling a bit dizzy.”</p><p>Draco made a show of rolling his eyes, trying to ignore how he suddenly felt paralyzed by the small glimmer of hope that was starting to grow at the very bottom of his chest. It had not been here before. He thought it would feel more enlightening. More revitalizing. But it didn’t. </p><p>“Come on, Malfoy. Let’s go see if your nephew is already high on all that sugar you just offered him.”</p><p>“Hah. Yeah. Alright.”</p><p>As he watched Potter grin and slowly get back up on his feet, the tiny bit of hope Draco now had - hope that maybe Potter could feel the same way - felt like subtle discomfort. Like a whisper at the back of his head begging him to stop this delusion. Like a slow, quiet ache.</p>
<hr/><p>A tiny part of Draco knew that ditching Astoria at the club and shagging the first bloke that caught his eye was not the answer to this, but it didn’t matter.</p><p><em> I’m completely, unequivocally certain this won’t work </em> , Astoria had said earlier at the club as she slipped him a condom. <em> But you’re going to realize that in the morning anyway and there’s no harm in getting some action along the way, so I won’t stop you. </em></p><p>Draco wanted to think that fucking the man he was currently in bed with would lead to the epiphany that he didn’t actually fancy Potter. He just needed a good fuck after a month of not getting any, surely. </p><p>“This alright?” he breathed out as he buried himself deep into the man beneath him, who was gasping and looking up at him through lidded eyes. </p><p>“Yeah...J-just move.”</p><p>Draco did. Bracing himself up with his hands on the mattress at either side of the man’s head, he started to roll his hips in a slow, even rhythm. He could feel him tighten around him, and Draco bowed his head, whispering curses between them. </p><p>As he moved faster, his thrusts became more erratic and desperate. </p><p>But even as he felt the pleasure start to mercilessly build up, legs shaking and moans escaping his mouth, his thoughts were still too entangled in visions of green eyes and brown skin and a sweet, lopsided grin.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>- finally an update! </p><p>- is it really just harry's love language to send food to and feed his friends bc that's how he experienced friendship and family for the first time via the weasleys always feeding him and ron and hermione sending him pastries when he was locked up in his room? yes. but is it normal for harry to do that for someone he's only been friends with for a month? no. does that mean he fancies draco too!? we'll see :)</p><p>- hey author, why did u change all the chapter titles to carly rae jepsen lyrics? bc all i ever do while writing this fic is listen to her songs abt yearning and love. is this fic heavily influenced by This Love Isn't Crazy and Heartbeat? maybe.</p><p>-  im <a href="http://www.ginnywcasleys.tumblr.com">ginnywcasleys</a> on tumblr. message me if u wanna talk abt the fic!! or if u wanna pressure me to update!! god knows i need it</p><p>- ty for the kind comments and all the kudos!!! nothing motivates me more huhu i rly appreciate it!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. i tried not to feel it (but i can’t get you out of my head)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Harry tries to figure out what it was about Malfoy.  As they grow closer, Harry starts to realize that there was something about them that made it feel different from all the other friendships he had. He just doesn't know what that means exactly.</p><p>or </p><p>harry is a fuckin repressed bi and is taking his sweet ass time realizing his feelings</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry sat on his bench and looked at the bike he had just finished working on. Between the thing being older than him and the fact he hasn’t been using magic, it was a nightmare to maintain. It didn’t matter, though. Harry liked having the bike. </p><p>He hadn’t thought he would have, considering all the memories from the day he fled Privet Drive. But, by the time Mr. Weasley had fixed it, removed the sidecar, and - at Harry’s request - stripped it of the extra buttons that had produced magical barriers and traps when he flew it with Hagrid, it had been unrecognizable. Harry no longer saw it as the thing he rode the day they fled from Death Eaters. It just looked the way it did in all the pictures he found of Sirius posing with it in his late teens. </p><p>He used a towel to wipe off the grease and dirt from his arms. Feeling just how much sweat and grime was clinging to his skin, he wondered if he had time to shower before Malfoy arrived to help him finish Teddy’s room.</p><p>Glancing at a clock on the wall, he wondered where Malfoy was. It was pretty early in the morning. The only reason Harry was awake was because he had been woken by a nightmare he couldn't even remember again. Still, Malfoy was usually on time. </p><p>Harry found himself touching the part of his upper arm that Malfoy had helped heal a couple of days ago. He remembered the way his fingers felt on his skin. Harry stared at the ground, hand still on the area Malfoy had lingered on when he was massaging the paste onto his arm, and thought about the weird trance he had slipped into when it was happening. </p><p>It’s not like he never zoned out before. It had just felt...different. It wasn’t that he had been distracted by his thoughts at the time. It was the opposite, really. Out of nowhere came the urge to just focus. On Malfoy’s face. And the way he was touching Harry. And the way he was staring back, unquestioning. </p><p>Maybe it was just that Harry hadn’t really made any new friends in the past few years. That was it, right?</p><p>Regardless, there was still a strangeness to how close Harry felt to him. It was different from being around Ron and Hermione. The warmth and comfort of being with a friend were there, sure, but there was something else. </p><p>Whatever it was seemed like a lost memory, too faded and obscure to grasp, that sat in his chest rather than his mind. All he knew was that he hasn’t felt it in a long time. Not since...</p><p>“Ginny,” he mumbled to himself, still confused but also reluctantly nursing a tiny inkling that was barely a full answer at the back of his head. </p><p>Before he could follow that train of thought, there was a thud of a closing door from down the hall.</p><p>“Potter?”</p><p>Harry stood up a bit too quickly as if shaking off whatever he was starting to piece together. “Here!”</p><p><em> You’re overthinking this </em>, he thought to himself.</p><p>Draco Malfoy appeared at the doorway. </p><p>“Sorry I’m late, I-” He stopped, frowning at the room, taking a few cautious steps in. “Wasn’t this…”</p><p>“A kitchen and dining room?” Harry finished, looking around the huge space that was mostly bare except for a workbench, a few cupboards full of tools and bike parts, and the bike itself. It was the only room on the ground floor and he had hated how huge the old kitchen and dining room were, so deciding where to keep the bike was a no-brainer. “Yeah.”</p><p>“I never realized I haven’t been here all these times I’ve been over.”</p><p>“Well, it’s not exactly for entertaining guests.”</p><p>“So. This is where you keep that...<em> thing.” </em>Malfoy looked pointedly at the bike. </p><p>“You talk about the bike the way my friends do. It’s a perfectly normal mode of transportation, thank you very much,” Harry replied, throwing the towel he was using over his shoulder.</p><p>“Teddy here?” </p><p>“He’s still asleep in my room. Said he loved his new room but didn’t want to sleep in it until it was completely finished,” Harry said, laughing. </p><p>“Bossy kid.”</p><p>“Yup,” Harry said, shaking his head. “D’you mind if I shower before we start?”</p><p>Malfoy shrugged. “Go ahead.”</p><p>Harry walked past him, but just as he was about to leave the room, Malfoy piped up again. </p><p>“Actually, since you’re not in a hurry to start...I should go Apparate over to my house to shower too. I’ll be quick.”</p><p>“What? Didn’t you just come from -” The sentence died in Harry’s mouth as he turned around to <em> really </em> take a good look at Malfoy for the first time today. </p><p>Malfoy’s hair was still combed back, but there were a few blonde strands that fell out of place. He was wearing the same outfit that Harry distinctly remembered from when Malfoy stopped by at the bookshop the day before. Now uncharacteristically wrinkled. And, on his neck, something speckled and shiny gleamed.<em> Is that</em> <em>body glitter? </em></p><p>“You… You didn’t go home last night.”</p><p>“I did an extra shift at the hospital.” Malfoy looked like he was trying to act composed, standing straight and his expression indifferent. Would have succeeded too if he didn’t go red as soon as Harry said anything.</p><p>Harry raised an eyebrow. “You said you don’t do double shifts.”</p><p>“Well. I did this time.”</p><p>Annoyance swelled at the pit of Harry’s chest for a reason he couldn’t place, but he ignored it. “You’re an adult, Malfoy. I don’t care if you just came from some random bloke’s flat,” he said, grinning cheekily, although the corners of his mouth felt heavy. </p><p>Malfoy sighed, his cheeks flushed. “I suppose so.”</p><p>“Meet you at Teddy’s room in 20 minutes then?” Harry asked, but he was already turning around and walking out the door.</p><hr/><p> </p><p>He had actively avoided thinking about Malfoy in those 20 minutes. And avoided trying to figure out why he was feeling irritated. So, by the time he saw Malfoy reach the fourth floor where Harry was sitting cross-legged in front of Teddy’s room and fidgeting with the mirror in his pocket, he had mostly convinced himself that he was overthinking it. Mostly. </p><p>It helped that as Harry looked up at him, he saw the Malfoy he had gotten used to. Clothes neat and pressed and hair slicked back. </p><p>“Sorry,” Malfoy mumbled, walking up to him. “Were you waiting long?”</p><p>Harry got up, grabbing the box of framed pictures he had next to him. “Oh, no. It’s fine,” he said, giving Malfoy a small, sort of apologetic smile. As if to say, <em> I’m sorry. Had to wait for you. I still can’t be in that room alone. </em></p><p>Malfoy turned the doorknob and stepped in, Harry following closely behind him. He stopped, looking around the room. “Oh, wow.”</p><p>Harry put down the box. “Yeah. Andromeda came over to drop Teddy off, and she ended up helping me out a bit with the stuff I got for the room.”</p><p>The shelves were now filled with storybooks, photo albums, and toys. On the desk were his coloring books, crayons, and a framed picture of Teddy and Andromeda laughing. The curtains of the bay window were hung up, patterned with cartoon dragons in different colors. </p><p>“Is there much left to do?” Malfoy asked, gesturing to the box. </p><p>“Ah, no, not really. Just a bunch of pictures to hang up. M’sorry for still making you come over.”</p><p>“I would have come over for less,” Malfoy says, already crouching down to take the first frame out of the box. </p><p>At that, Harry felt like his chest was suddenly taking up too much of his body, and he didn’t know why. </p><p> </p><hr/><p>They took two steps back to look at the wall. </p><p>“<em>Better </em> now?” Harry asked through his teeth as he crossed his arms.</p><p>Malfoy nodded slowly, sighing. “Yes.”</p><p>What was a small task of hanging up framed photos had turned into an hour-long argument of <em> You’re not spacing them out properly, Potter. You sure those glasses work? </em> and <em> Malfoy, would it kill you to not be so irritating for two seconds? </em> and <em> Move that one higher. You’re not getting it right </em> and <em> You’re literally as tall as me! Just do it yourself! </em></p><p>“Jesus, that’s a relief<em>.</em>” Harry snickered. “This was almost worse than when we were deciding what kind of blue to paint the walls.”</p><p>“Well, you’re obviously colorblind if you thought those two shades were identical,” Malfoy countered.</p><p>The wall was now filled with picture frames of different shapes and sizes, the photos showing just how full of love Teddy’s life was: Teddy and Harry posing in front of a huge sandcastle they had made together on a trip to the beach. Teddy and Andromeda sitting crossed-legged in the grass, the two of them laughing as his hair color switched with every sneeze. Teddy walking down Diagon Alley for the first time, gaping at the storefronts, one hand holding Ron’s and the other in Hermione’s.</p><p>At the center was the biggest portrait. It was him with his parents. Teddy must have only been a few days old then. He was being cradled in Tonks’ arms as Remus planted a kiss on the top of his head. His hair was pink like his mother’s.</p><p> “He always liked the wall of photos in the living room. So, I think he’ll like this too.”</p><p>“He will.”</p><p>“Oh, wait, there’s actually one more picture left,” Harry suddenly remembered as he spotted one nail left on the wall. He walked over to the desk drawer where he had kept it after he and Andromeda had found the perfect frame for it.</p><p>“One more-!” Malfoy spun around glaring at him. “You say this <em> after </em> we finally finished arranging all the other-”</p><p>He cut himself off as he saw the picture Harry had in his hands</p><p>Harry walked back to him, handing the framed photograph over to let him take a better look at it. “You were saying?” </p><p>Malfoy looked at the photo, speechless and thumb rubbing against the edges of the silver frame. In the picture was Malfoy asleep on the couch with Teddy on his chest dozing off as well. He was running his hand through his nephew’s locks in his sleep, Teddy’s hair shifting with every stroke. Blue. Pink Green. Blue. Pink. Green.</p><p>He looked at Harry. “When did you take this?”</p><p>“A couple of days ago, after you…” Harry trailed off, gesturing vaguely to the arm Malfoy had healed. He cleared his throat. “You and Teddy fell asleep on the couch watching cartoons after dinner, remember?”</p><p>“Yeah, I do,” he whispered, his eyes returning to the photograph. “I just didn’t expect that you’d have-”</p><p>Harry punched him softly on the shoulder. “Come off it. <em> Of course </em> I had to have you on his wall. You’re his family too,” he said, taking the photograph from Malfoy’s hands and hanging it up on the wall. It sat between a picture of Andromeda beaming at the camera with a newborn Teddy in her arms and one of Teddy with gold face paint, on Harry’s shoulders at a Quidditch game.</p><p>He turned back to Malfoy and saw that his eyes were a tad bit glassy as he continued to watch the colors of Teddy’s hair change in their photo. </p><p>Harry felt a pull in his gut. He wasn’t quite sure why, but it was too similar to that half-thought he was avoiding earlier. He looked away. </p><p>“Don’t look so surprised,” Harry mumbled. “The kid loves you.”</p><p>“Is that why you’ve kept me around for this long?” Malfoy asked, chuckling and walking over to sit on the bed.</p><p>Harry grinned. “Oh, yeah, definitely.”</p><p>“Tosser.”</p><p>Harry sat on the bed next to him, looking around the room. “I think Sirius would like this room being Teddy’s now.”</p><p>“I never knew him, but I’m sure he would.”</p><p>Harry rubbed his pinky against the cool surface of the mirror glass shard in his pocket. “It’s been four years, but whenever I feel lost about taking care of Teddy, I still find myself thinking about how Sirius would have raised me if he’d gotten the chance. And just do that.”</p><p>“If that’s true, he must be a pretty great bloke because you’re a brilliant godfather.”</p><p>Harry turned to him just to see that Malfoy was already facing him, beaming with a soft look in his eye. </p><p>“Stop that,” he said before stopping himself.</p><p>Malfoy raised a brow. “Stop what?”</p><p>“I... Nothing. Sorry, I don’t know,” he mumbled as he looked away, fiddling with the shard in his pocket even more. But when he felt Malfoy’s hand on his wrist, he returned his gaze to him. </p><p>“You have that mirror shard in your pocket again.” It wasn’t a question. </p><p>Harry sighed. “Okay, yes, I do. I always just forget which coat or trouser pockets I leave it in and end up fixating on it too much to get rid of it whenever I do find it.” </p><p>He pulled it out of his pocket and studied it. It glinted in the sunlight that slanted into the room from the window. Harry thought of all the junk in the room he had gotten rid of and how it made him feel lighter. </p><p>Before he could change his mind, he handed it to Malfoy.</p><p>He took it from Harry, looking confused. “What?”</p><p>“Just take it away from me. Get rid of it. You were right, I shouldn’t have it. It just brings back crap memories.”</p><p>“Are you sure about this?” Malfoy asked, pocketing the shard. </p><p>Harry nodded. “Yeah. Need to stop obsessing over how I fucked up.”</p><p>“That’s true.”</p><p>“Besides, I almost cut myself on that thing again the other week. Properly best for it to be rubbish.”</p><p>Malfoy snorted. “Well, I am rather tired of patching you up all the time.”</p><p>Harry smiled. “Shut up, Malfoy.”</p><p>“Do you want to go wake Teddy up and tell him the room’s finished?” Malfoy asked, standing up. </p><p>“You go ahead.”</p><p>“Are you sure?” he asked, a concerned look on his face.</p><p>“I’ll be quick.”</p><p>“Well, alright then.” He gave Harry an encouraging pat on the shoulder before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. </p><p>The moment he was alone in the room for the first time in years, Harry felt himself tense up a bit. He stood up, looking around at the room, and took a deep breath. </p><p>“I almost sold this whole place. Nearly took the first offer I got,” Harry found himself whispering into the empty room. He leaned against one of the bedposts. “It was too much, you know? Thinking about how you hated the childhood you experienced in these rooms, how the Order had you cooped in this place, how we hid here, terrified for our lives when we were on the run... Everything about this house just..revolted me.</p><p>"It changed when I took Teddy here for the first time. He was just a few months old then, but the way he crawled down the halls and filled the rooms with his first laughs made me realize that I could actually have happy memories here. I also figured that you’d prefer that I have the house and turn into something good rather than some stranger who wants to buy it just for the novelty of owning a famous ancestral home."</p><p>Harry touched the wood of the bedposts, feeling the few scratches on the surface underneath his fingers. “You would have loved Teddy... I mean, of course you would. He’s your best friend’s kid. And he looks more and more like him every day. Whenever I look at him and see Remus, I wonder if this is what you two felt when you first saw me, spitting image of my dad and all... </p><p>"Anyway, yeah. Teddy’s wonderful. He’s going to fill this room with good memories. The kind you deserved back then…”</p><p>Harry stood there for a few moments, making peace with the quiet and the fact that there was no one there to answer. Then, he walked to the door. </p><p>When he opened it, Malfoy was waiting for him outside instead of waking Teddy.</p><p>“Are you alright?”</p><p>Harry nodded. “Yeah, I think I am.”</p><p>“That’s good. There’s one more thing, though…” he trailed off, gesturing to something behind Harry. </p><p>He turned around and saw the silver nameplate with <em> Sirius </em>engraved on it still on the door. “Can you-?”</p><p>Malfoy nodded, taking out his wand. </p><p>With magic, it only took him a few minutes to alter the nameplate to say <em> Teddy. </em></p><p>“Better?” Malfoy asked.</p><p>Harry let out a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah.”</p><hr/><p><br/>It was Harry’s seventh meeting. To say that he felt more at ease than he did those first few sessions was an understatement. The growing familiarity of the people in the circle - their names, their faces, their stories - felt good. Talking felt easier. And talking made him feel better.</p><p>“So, yeah,” he mumbled as he finished telling them about finishing Teddy’s room the day before. “I was playing with him in it before his grandmother came to pick him up this morning, and it just feels so much lighter. I mean, it already did once I first threw all the rubbish away and started working on it. But now that it’s really, officially, his, it’s just a lot clearer just how much he can transform it into something...good. And happy.”</p><p>“That’s wonderful, Harry,” Jasmine said. “Reclaiming spaces we associate with the ones we’ve lost often does make healing easier. Whether it’s a literal space like a room you can’t go into or a part of your life you think you can’t experience anymore because of the thought of loss.”</p><p>“That’s true,” a young woman whose name Harry knew was Fatima piped up with a kind, empathetic expression. “For the first time since my boyfriend died, I’ve been spending time with our mutual friends. It’s a part of my life I thought was off-limits now, but every time I laugh with them, it feels like transforming that particular trace of him into something beautiful.”</p><p>Harry nodded, thinking about how excited he was to visit Ron and Hermione after this meeting. It was starting to feel normal again after seeing them a few times the past month, but he still felt proud and warm about it. “Yeah, exactly.”</p><hr/><p>“And then the wanker - who was completely plastered at that point, mind you - has the <em> audacity </em> to tell me it was my fault for not reminding him he was on call! Can you believe it? If I don’t murder that arsehole by the end of the year, you two better congratulate me.”</p><p>Harry laughed, shaking his head. “Maybe you should have resigned with me, mate.”</p><p>“You’re right!” Ron exclaimed from the armchair he was sitting in. </p><p>Hermione, who was sitting cross-legged next to Harry on the sofa, groaned. “I know you’re joking, but don’t give him any ideas. I don’t like the thought of working at the Ministry without either of you.”</p><p>“Oh, please, you love your job,” Ron pointed out. </p><p>“I do! But everyone other than Kingsley is just a personified <em> migraine! </em>” she exclaimed, waving her arms in frustration. “Thought the promotion would mean I get more independence, but I can’t even get funding for the educational reforms and subsidies without sucking up to rich names who think they’re heroes for not being one of the families who were murdering people four years ago. Now, I have to plan a bloody fundraiser so that they can get drunk enough to care a bit more.”</p><p>Hermione and Ron continued complaining about their jobs, and Harry watched them, amused. He sipped at his cup of tea and thought of how it felt like he was in the Gryffindor Common Room again, listening to Hermione complain about a class curriculum or Ron go on about an essay he doesn’t want to start. </p><p>The oven timer went off, and his friends stopped rambling. Ron got up. “Finally! I’ll go set the table and prepare the food.”</p><p>“Thank you, love,” Hermione said, her voice suddenly soft again. She reached up to touch his arm in gratitude as he passed them. </p><p>Ron smiled and took her hand to kiss the back of it. “No problem,” he said, before walking out the room. </p><p>This easy, seamless switch they always did from best friends to lovers and vice versa in between conversations was something that still amazed Harry after four years. “I forgot how nauseating you two can be.”</p><p>From where she was curled up on the sofa, she started kicking him lightly. “I’ve caught you and Ginny making out in every room of this house, so you’re not one to talk!”</p><p>Harry smirked, using a throw pillow to block her feet. “I know, I know.”</p><p>“And I’m sure you’ll be equally as nauseating with the next girl,” she added. </p><p><em> The next girl. </em> He laughed nervously at that. “Sure.”</p><p>Hermione frowned. “Hey, don’t give me that face. You <em> will </em>find somebody to be gross with.”</p><p>Harry wanted to tell her that that’s what he was scared of. But he just shrugged. “I wouldn’t know who to trust, much less be in love with, ‘Mione.”</p><p>She scooted closer to him, linking their arms together like she always did when she was comforting him. Harry rested his cheek on top of her head, once again realizing just how much he had been missing his friends all these months. </p><p>“You’ll just...know.”</p><p>“I always thought that too, but… I thought I knew with Ginny. Obviously, that didn’t work out.”</p><p>“But you loved her. And it was real.”</p><p>A picture frame on the end table caught Harry’s eye. It was a picture of the three of them with Ginny after her first professional Quidditch game. He remembered how he had felt watching her zoom through the pitch on her broom, her ponytail whipping behind her and the crowd going wild with her name in their mouths. He definitely had been in love with her then. “Yeah.”</p><p>“Then you were right when you thought you knew with her.” </p><p>Harry snorted. “Except I wasn’t.”</p><p>She sat up straight, looking him in the eye. “Just because you weren’t meant to end up together doesn’t mean it wasn’t true love at one point. You knew with her, and you’ll know again the next time you’ve got someone worth keeping and loving. Whether it’s with her again or someone else. It’ll just be better this time because you’ll be loving whoever that is as <em> this </em> version of you. Happier. More open. Better.”</p><p>Harry’s mind started to race at everything Hermione had just said. Everything she pointed out made sense. But it was still too scary to admit what that meant for him, even though he wasn’t completely sure he knew what that was. “Do I really seem better?”</p><p>She squeezed his arm. “Definitely. I don't know if it’s those meetings or something else, but...Whatever it is, I can tell you’re doing really good. And I’m happy for you.” </p><p>Beaming at her, he squeezed back. “Thanks, ‘Mione.”</p><p>He was about to get up and suggest that they should go help Ron because they had cooked so much food earlier, but Hermione spoke again.</p><p>“So, who is it?”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“Regular at the bookshop? Or did you meet her somewhere else?”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>Hermione rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You fancy someone, don’t you?”</p><p>Harry felt like there was cotton in his mouth, suddenly unsure of how to talk. <em> Did he fancy someone?  </em>“What? No, that’s-”</p><p>“I know you've moved on from Ginny and that you haven’t talked to her in months,” she said, interrupting him. “So, there are zero other reasons for you to seem so anxious and have that look on your face when we’re talking about your dating life here. You're not like this unless there's someone-” </p><p>“Food’s ready!” Ron called from the dining room. </p><p>Relief flooded Harry as he shot up, yanking his arm from Hermione’s grip. “Let’s go.”</p><p>Hermione squinted at him with a mischievous smirk. “Whatever, I’ll get it out of you.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p>Harry walked up to the door after parking his bike, running his hands through his unruly curls as an attempt to get rid of his helmet hair. He really didn’t have any reason to be here other than the fact that one of the customers he had at the shop today had a kid that talked like Teddy and made Harry miss him despite only seeing him a day ago. </p><p>Fortunately, Andromeda had said she didn’t mind him coming over for dinner. Actually, her exact words were <em> Harry James Potter, are you telling me you called me and interrupted my cooking just to ask that? Of course you’re welcome! </em> and <em> How many times do I have to tell you the answer is always yes? </em> and <em> Ask me that again and I’ll hex you. </em></p><p>Andromeda, in her apron, opened the door after a few knocks. She immediately frowned at his helmet hair. </p><p>Harry sighed. “Don’t.”</p><p>She clicked her tongue and crossed her arms. “I really wish you’d stop riding that thing.”</p><p>“I love how everyone hates the bike but is somehow alright with the idea that I was on a broom, a hundred feet off the ground, at eleven years old.”</p><p>Andromeda rolled her eyes. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”</p><p>Harry grinned at her, shrugging</p><p>She shook her head. “Come in, everyone’s in the kitchen. And dinner’s almost ready.”</p><p>“Everyone?” he asked, stepping into the house and closing the door behind him.</p><p>Before he could get an answer, she had already walked away and Teddy, who was carrying an assortment of dragon stuffed toys and figurines in his arms, had spotted him.</p><p>“‘Arry!” He yelled, dropping his toys to run to Harry and hug his legs. </p><p>Harry laughed, getting down on one knee. “Hey Teddy,” he murmured, giving him a proper hug. “What are you up to?” he asked as he pulled away. </p><p>“I’m building a castle!”</p><p>“Yeah? For your dragons?” he guessed. It was his godson’s latest obsession. Months before, it had been Hippogriffs.</p><p>“Yeah! It’s almost <em> this </em> tall!” he exclaimed, raising his hand level to his own height.</p><p>“Brilliant!” Harry matched his enthusiasm, which wasn’t hard. Teddy’s joy was always some degree of contagious no matter what he was talking about. “How tall is it going to be? Dragons can fly pretty high.”</p><p>Teddy scrunched up his face. “I don’t know yet... But I still have lots of blocks! And I want to make a second castle! Will you help me?”</p><p>“Of course, kid. But after dinner, alright?” Harry asked, ruffling Teddy’s hair. “And only if you pick up your toys and bring them back to your room. Your grandma said dinner will be ready soon.”</p><p>The four-year-old beamed and nodded. “Okay!”</p><p>“Okay, now g-” Before Harry could finish, Teddy was already scrambling to pick up his dragons. He stood up, watching his godson run up the stairs in amusement, then he noticed that multiple voices were coming from the kitchen.</p><p>When he entered, he saw Malfoy in mid-conversation with Andromeda, who was transferring food onto a platter, and a petite girl with dark brown hair in twin braids. She looked familiar, but he wasn’t sure where he knew her from yet.</p><p>Malfoy was the first one to notice Harry. He looked up from the glass of wine he was drinking and smiled at the sight of him.</p><p>Harry felt his breath get stuck in his chest for a couple moments before speaking. “Didn’t know you’d be here.”</p><p>“My dear aunt here wouldn’t let us leave before force-feeding us, so…”</p><p>“You’re going to complain about free food now?” Andromeda quipped without looking up from what she was doing. “Also, Draco, dear, don’t be rude,” she added, gesturing to the brunette girl who was sitting at the other end of the kitchen table.</p><p>“Right. Sorry,” Malfoy mumbled. “This is Astoria. She’s commissioning a painting from Andromeda, so we figured we’d stop by after our shift. Astoria, this is-”</p><p>“Yes, Draco, I am aware of who Harry Potter is.” She hopped off the stool to shake Harry’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Harry. I’ve heard a lot about you from this one,” she said, tilting her head towards Malfoy.</p><p>Harry was hoping it wasn’t obvious how much blood was rushing to his cheeks. “Likewise.”</p><p>Still gripping his hand, Astoria shook her head. “No. Really. <em> A lot </em>,” she emphasized, before letting his hand go.</p><p>“Er... Okay?”</p><p>“Don’t mind her. She’s just tired of me complaining about how irritating you are,” Malfoy, who now seemed to be preoccupied with the food Andromeda was making him plate, said from the other side of the room.</p><p>Some of the tension leaving Harry’s shoulders, he chuckled. “Yeah? You’re one to talk.”</p><p>“<em>Boys </em>,” Andromeda scolded as she started carrying the food out of the room. “Come on, let’s eat. Harry, go get Teddy, will you? And make sure he washes his hands.”</p><hr/><p>The dinner had been the noisiest one Harry had had in a while. </p><p>There was bickering with Malfoy about the right way to pronounce bouillabaisse.<em> (Potter, I can literally speak French. Why do you have to fight me on everything?) </em> There was Andromeda scolding Teddy about trying to dump the broccoli he was ordered to eat under the table. (<em>I don’t care if you think they’re gross. You’re eating them.) </em> There was Astoria and Malfoy egging Andromeda on to tell more embarrassing baby stories of Harry that she had heard from Remus. (<em>I think that’s enough for tonight, Andromeda!)  </em></p><p>It was chaos. Harry loved it. </p><p>It felt like being at the Weasley’s dinner table or at the Great Hall during breakfast before a Quidditch game again. </p><p>After dinner, Andromeda and Malfoy had transferred to her studio to plan for her 50th birthday that was coming in around a month. (Andromeda had looked pointedly at Harry when she said <em> because Draco here actually contributes more ideas than “People like cake. You should have cake at your party” </em>at which Harry rolled his eyes but couldn’t really argue). So, Harry and Astoria were left with castle duty with Teddy.</p><p>“So, what’s the painting for? The one you commissioned from Andromeda,” Harry asked her as they sat on the floor, sorting the blocks by color at Teddy’s request. Teddy was behind them, rummaging through his trunk and trying to choose which dragon should live in the castle they had just finished building before making a new one. </p><p>“Oh, it’s this picture of me and Daphne as kids that I’ve always wanted to have painted. She’s a sentimental person, so I’m hoping she’ll love it.”</p><p>Harry had expected Astoria to look like all the Slytherins he knew from school. Malfoy may have changed, but he still dressed the way he - and all his friends - did back in Hogwarts whenever they were out of uniform: Dark or neutral monochrome outfits. A rotation of plain button-downs and turtlenecks tucked in with an expensive belt. Always with a blazer on. Hair perfectly in place at all times. Shoes? Leather and shined.  </p><p>Astoria was different. She was wearing denim overalls with a cropped pink t-shirt underneath and a flannel wrapped around her waist. Strands of her brown hair were sticking out and getting loose from her twin braids. She wore sparkly orange nail polish, which was chipped at the edges.</p><p>Astoria was bright and bubbly. Her quips were fast, her laugh was loud, and she moved as if she’d rather be dancing at all times. It was an infectious sort of energy that Harry liked to find in people. </p><p>“Is it a gift?”</p><p>Astoria smiled as she finished pooling all the pink blocks together. “Yeah! For Christmas. I know it’s really early, but I knew Andromeda gets tons of commissions. Just wanted to make sure I could get Daph something special. Haven’t seen her in a while because of her job.”</p><p>“What does she do?”</p><p>“Oh, she’s a magizoologist! She’s sort of been everywhere, but the past year she’s been working on a project in Sweden at the dragon sanctuary. Romania’s next on her-”</p><p>Before she could finish, Teddy had plopped down on her lap, his eyes wide. “What did you say?”</p><p>Harry laughed as Astoria was roped into describing every dragon she saw during her visits to her sister. </p><p>Absentmindedly forming the base of the new castle, Harry watched as Astoria patiently answered all of Teddy’s questions. She even threw in a few stories here and there, her hands waving around as she seemed to get caught up in what she was saying as well. Teddy laughed and gasped, his hair switching colors more rapidly at his excitement. </p><p>A few dragon stories in, Teddy’s bedroom door opened, and Andromeda stepped in. “Teddy, dear, time for bed. Come, you need to have a bath.”</p><p>He looked at his grandmother, his brows drawn together. “But…”</p><p>“No buts, mister,” she said firmly, hands now on her hips. </p><p>“Fiiiiiine.”</p><p>Andromeda smirked triumphantly before leaving the room. </p><p>Teddy got up from Astoria’s lap and turned to her. “Will you tell me more when I’m finished?”</p><p>“Oh, sorry Ted,” Astoria said, looking apologetic. “I actually need to go soon. I have work early tomorrow.”</p><p>Teddy started to pout and tug at her sleeve. “No, don’t!”</p><p>“Sorry, kid. But you’re in good hands with your godfather here,” she reassured. “I mean, I’m pretty sure his experience with dragons is a lot more exciting than mine.”</p><p>Teddy’s head whipped to Harry. “WHAT?!”</p><p>Harry grimaced, rubbing his forehead. “Go to your grandmother first, and I’ll tell you when you’re ready for bed.”</p><p>“Okay!” Teddy practically flew out of the room, mumbling a quick goodbye to Astoria.</p><p>Astoria faced Harry. “I said something wrong, didn't I?”</p><p>Harry took a deep breath. “No, no. He would have found out eventually. Just a tad bit hard to tell a child to always behave when he knows you broke into Gringotts and fled on the back of a dragon like a bloody hypocrite.”</p><p>She laughed. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that.”</p><p>“It’s alright. You’re doing better than Malfoy. In the past month, he’s probably already told Teddy about each time I got in trouble back in school,” Harry said, starting to gather the loose blocks on the floor. </p><p>Astoria helped him, holding open the bag Teddy kept the blocks in for Harry. “Ah, sounds like him. Such a tosser. Love him, though.” </p><p>“He loves you too. I wasn’t just being polite when I said he talks about you a lot.”</p><p>“Aw, really?” she cooed, placing a hand over her heart. “You know, I was pretty surprised when he befriended me in the first place. He never really opens up to anyone else. Well, until you obviously.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>She nodded. “Oh, without a doubt. You’re- ...Your friendship is good for him. I can see it.”</p><p>Harry smiled. “He’s been...It’s been good for me too.”</p><hr/><p>After Teddy had calmed down and finished asking all his questions (<em> What kind of dragon was it? How long did the goblins have it? Did you see it breathe fire? Do you know where it is now? How high did you fly? </em>), which had him up a bit past his bedtime, he was starting to get sleepy. He snuggled up to Harry’s chest and hummed contentedly. “Tell me more, okay?”</p><p>Harry closed his eyes, resting them a bit, as he laid his head on one of Teddy’s pillows. “Next time, Teddy. To be honest, I thought your Uncle Draco had told you already. He likes telling you about how much I got in trouble, doesn’t he?” he said, chuckling.</p><p>Teddy yawned, shaking his head. “That’s not all he tells me.”</p><p>“Hmm?” He wrapped an arm around Teddy, getting comfortable.</p><p>“He also told me about the good things you did. He said…He said you were like the heroes in the storybooks Aunt ‘Mione gave me,” he said, struggling more than usual with some of the r sounds of the words he said now that he was drifting off.</p><p>Harry’s eyes shot open. “Really?”</p><p>“Uh-huh.” Teddy’s eyes were fluttering to a close. “Said you were the bwa- <em> bravest </em>person he knew...And...And he said that’s why he thinks you should rest now...and do what you want to do... Because you helped so many people already.”</p><p>His chest suddenly feeling too tight and his throat feeling too dry, he was at a loss for words. <em> Inhale, exhale, </em> he reminded himself, his thoughts now going a hundred miles an hour. “When...When did he say this?” </p><p>When he looked at his godson, he was already asleep, snoring lightly. </p><hr/><p>With his head still reeling from what Teddy had said - or from how <em> he </em>was reacting to what he had said, if he was being honest - he stumbled a couple of times as he went down the stairs. When he reached the ground floor, he saw that the kitchen’s lights were still on and heard the sink running. </p><p>He walked into the room to see Malfoy doing the dishes. Harry leaned against the entryway of the kitchen, just watching him. His blond hair was slightly disheveled, a few strands falling to his face. The sleeves of his button-down shirt were rolled up to his elbows, and the topmost buttons were unfastened. Harry swallowed hard. </p><p>“So, you got stuck washing the dishes,” he finally managed to say.</p><p>Malfoy looked up at him, looking slightly startled. “Hah. Yeah. Andromeda and I had a bit of wine after she got Teddy ready for bed. She looked sleepy, so I offered. She just went up, actually.”</p><p>Harry nodded, his eyes lingering on Malfoy’s exposed collarbone for a beat too long. “Why aren’t you just using magic?”</p><p>Malfoy shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s sort of...relaxing?”</p><p>Harry walked over to the kitchen table, grabbing a biscuit from an opened tin next to two empty wine glasses. “Remind me to make you wash my dishes whenever you’re over,” Harry said before popping the biscuit into his mouth. </p><p>Malfoy snorted, shaking his head.</p><p>Harry leaned against the counter next to sink, chewing as he watched Malfoy. Malfoy’s eyes were narrowed in concentration, a few small creases appearing on his forehead, and his bottom lip was curled between his teeth. Harry wondered if Malfoy was aware that he bit his lip when he was focusing on something. He also wondered why he couldn’t look away.</p><p>Something was stirring in Harry that felt too heavy and too big to just sit at the back of his mind. All he knew was that he had to keep his eyes on him. </p><p>“You're staring. Did you want to say something?” Malfoy asked as he continued to scrub at a dirty pot, glancing at Harry.</p><p>“I…” Harry started, but his tongue felt lost in his mouth. "Can you let me be honest for a moment without you making fun of how nauseating and sentimental this is going to sound?” he found himself asking. </p><p>“Can’t make any promises, Potter."</p><p>“Malfoy.”</p><p>Malfoy furrowed his brow, turning the sink off and drying his hands on a towel before turning to Harry. “Go ahead.”</p><p>Harry took a breath. “I feel like this goes without saying seeing as I've been spending practically every day with you this past month. But I should say it anyway. I really appreciate your company. I really like being with you, being your friend. And it’s strangely helped me like myself more than I ever have. And <em>feel</em> more like myself than I ever have. So, you know. Thank you.” </p><p>Malfoy stared at him for a moment, obviously caught off guard. His mouth opened and closed a few times as if searching for things to say. Then, his face relaxed, and he smiled. “Well. The feeling is mutual.” </p><p>“I just... I just wanted...You know. To say that,” Harry stammered. What was going on? Why did Malfoy have this effect on him? What <em> exactly </em> was this?</p><p>Malfoy’s grin grew. He reached over to Harry’s face, brushing biscuit crumbs off his mouth.</p><p>
  <em> Oh.  </em>
</p><p>Harry’s heart thudded wildly in his chest at the feel of Malfoy’s thumb against his lower lip. He looked at Malfoy, at the softness of his gaze and the curl of his lip, and felt the riot in his own chest unceasing. Nagging. Telling him,<em> this. This is what it is. Here’s your answer.  </em></p><p>Malfoy withdrew his hand. “You’re a messy eater, you know that?” he asked, turning away to continue washing the dishes.</p><p>Harry forced out a laugh. As he continued to watch Malfoy, noticing how he looked like he was glowing in the warm kitchen light, Harry <em> knew. </em> He knew that he could no longer pretend that he didn’t know what this feeling was. And he felt like screaming or crying or laughing or <em> something. </em>Anything that would count as an outlet for this thing festering in him. </p><p>“Now, make yourself useful and dry,” Malfoy said, handing him a washed plate. </p><p>“Ugh, I take everything back. You’re not <em> that </em>great,” Harry mumbled, grinning at him as he took the plate. He gripped tight, not wanting to drop it as his fingers started to feel restless from all the adrenaline that was coursing through him. </p><p>He didn’t know if it was from fear or euphoria.</p><p>“Fuck off.” Malfoy made a show of rolling his eyes before smiling back at him. </p><p>It was both, Harry decided.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>- it took him a while, but he got there! there's still a lotttt of healing and growing and PINING to do though. when i said slow burn i rly wasn't kidding im sorry<br/>- harry and draco rly level up the bickering when they're around ppl huh<br/>- talk to me abt the fic (or yell at me to update lmao) @ ginnywcasleys on tumblr!<br/>- ur kudos and comments are super motivating and they rly push me to write even on days when i dont feel like it so thank you so much? :')</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. i'm hiding things i don't want to show now</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ron and Hermione come over at a less-than-ideal time. Harry has some explaining to do. </p><p>or </p><p>between realizing he's not straight and realizing how bad he fucked up with his best friends, harry is having a stressful week</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’m done for, I think.” Draco leaned against the doorframe of Astoria’s bedroom as she sat in front of her dressing table.</p><p>“We see each other at work, Draco. You really couldn’t wait to tell me something I already knew?” </p><p>“I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep, and...It just <em> had </em> to be Potter? What kind of sick joke is this?”</p><p>“Just shag the bloke already. Merlin.”</p><p>Draco scowled. “You know, I thought you’d at least be a little helpful.”</p><p>Astoria glared at him through the reflection of her mirror as she held her makeup brush away from her face. “Draco, it is <em> six </em> o’clock in the bloody morning, and you barged into my flat yelling about a boy. I’m not exactly in a <em> helpful </em>mood.”</p><p>He rubbed his eyes. “I know, I know. I’m sorry.” He walked over to her bed, sitting down. </p><p>Astoria glanced at him, a look of pity obvious in her face. “It’s alright, I suppose. I know it’s been stressing you out. For what it’s worth, though, I think he fancies you too.”</p><p>Draco snorted, but as he did, he knew it was half-hearted. He couldn't ignore that tiny part of him he has been trying to stifle. The part of him that kept thinking that maybe it was possible. </p><p>“What? You should have seen the face he made when I told him I thought he was good for you.”</p><p>“You told him <em> what? </em>”</p><p>Starting on her eyeliner, she clicks her tongue. “As a <em> friend </em>, of course! I told him you two being friends was good for you. Blimey, Draco, I’m not stupid.”</p><p>“Oh. Okay.” Draco shoulders sagged in relief. “What do I do, Astoria?”</p><p>Astoria put down her makeup, finally turning to him. “Well, if you don’t want to go for it, then there really is just one other option is there?”</p><p>Draco raised his brows in question, but deep down he knew the answer.</p><p>“Deal with it. This friendship is obviously important to you. Just...keep being his friend until your feelings tide over.”</p><p>“And if they don’t?”</p><p>Astoria looked at him sympathetically. “I don’t know the answer to that, Draco.” </p><p>He groaned and flopped back onto her bed.</p><p>“I don’t know why you’re freaking out about this again, though,” she mumbled. Draco was staring at the ceiling, but he could tell she was turning to face her mirror again from the rustling of her dress. “Didn’t you already have this epiphany and fucked some random bloke the other night because of it?”</p><p>Draco just grunted in response, thinking of the night before in Andromeda’s kitchen. He remembered brushing crumbs off Potter’s lip before he could stop himself. He remembered the alarms ringing in his brain as he did it. Most of all, he remembered the stunned, soft expression of Potter’s face as it had happened. And the way he had looked like he could also hear the rest of the world slowly humming to silence in the span of those few seconds.</p><p>He shut his eyes tight. <em> No, that was nothing. You’re reading too much into it. This is how you get hurt, you idiot. </em></p><p>“Did something happen last night after I left?” Astoria pressed on.</p><p>Draco stayed silent. </p><p>“Draco?”</p><p>“No. Nothing happened.” He wished he knew if that was a lie or not.</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
“Can’t believe you don’t know how to use chopsticks,” Potter said as he handed Draco a plastic fork and spoon as they sat on opposite sides of the table in the bookshop’s tiny break room. “How <em> uncultured. </em>”</p><p>Draco had told himself after talking to Astoria that he’d keep it casual. He had decided that he could still be friends with him, but he didn’t have to spend every other day with him.</p><p>This resolve only lasted until he found himself getting two orders of takeaway from a Chinese restaurant instead of one and Apparating to Thornton’s Books. The moment Potter had seen him, he had immediately put up the Lunch Break sign on the window and grinned so wide that Draco’s heart felt like combusting.</p><p>“This is the thanks I get for bringing you lunch?” </p><p>Potter rolled his eyes. “<em> Thank you. </em>”</p><p>Draco chuckled. He then took off his blazer and hung it on the back of his chair as he undid the topmost buttons of his shirt. </p><p>There was a clatter.</p><p>He looked up to see that Potter had dropped all the excess plastic utensils he had been holding and was now scrambling to pick them up. As he set them aside, he almost nudged the carton of dumplings off the table before catching them in time and cursing under his breath.</p><p>“Er...Are you alright?” Draco asked.</p><p>“Y-yeah, yeah. Like you said. I’m clumsy,” he said, laughing a little but keeping his head down, eyes fixed on his food as they started to eat. </p><p>Draco frowned, but let it go, figuring he must just be having a stressful workday. </p><p>“Oh, I forgot to ask,” Potter started, mouth half-full of chow mein and finally meeting his eye. “Did you and Andromeda decide on the date for her party? I need to…er...you know, prepare to be around a huge group of wizards for the first time in a while.”</p><p>“She’s having it the night before her birthday since that’ll be a Friday.” Draco peered at him, noticing him wince a little at that. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? I know it’s more than a month from now, but... She invited a ton of people. It’ll be...a lot.”</p><p>“Yeah, but it’s her 50th birthday. And it’s the first time she’s been willing to celebrate her birthday since Tonks and Ted died… I want to be there for her.”</p><p>Draco nodded. “Well, I think you’ve got in you, for what that’s worth.”</p><p>Potter shot him a smile so fond that Draco wanted to look away immediately. </p><p>“Thanks. I hope so.”</p><p>“And it’s not like you’ll be alone while Andromeda entertains everyone. You’ll have Weasley and Granger.”</p><p>“And you. I’ll have you.”</p><p>Draco’s heart started to speed up a bit at that. He dropped his gaze, trying to appear preoccupied with his food as he poked at it with his fork. There was no way he could look Potter in the eye right now without his face betraying anything he’d rather keep to himself. “Yeah. You will.”</p><p>They continued to eat in comfortable silence, only breaking it to ask the other to pass the sauce or a paper napkin and to fight over the last dumpling. Draco would try to steal a few glances from time to time, but Potter would always meet his gaze, beaming at him, before Draco could look away.</p><p><em> If it can only ever be this, </em> Draco thought to himself as he smiled back, <em> I’ll take it anyway. </em></p>
<hr/><p>Harry had always assumed he was straight. </p><p>Not that he’d ever actually, seriously considered the alternative before. He had just figured he was. From only ever dating girls to the fact that he’d been with and loved Ginny for three years, it had just cemented itself as a given in his brain. </p><p>But now, in hindsight, he was realizing more and more how wrong he was. As he drank his tea and waited for the oven to preheat, he thought back to all the signs his mind just didn’t pick up. </p><p>Like his weird fascination with how attractive Bill and Charlie were in his teenage years. Or the way his 14-year-old self couldn’t get over how handsome Cedric Diggory was. He probably even had a tiny crush on the barista of the coffee shop he had frequented for the first few months he worked at the Ministry - the place hadn’t been on his way to work and the coffee was terrible. </p><p>How had he not figured this out sooner? </p><p>He looked over to the counter where Malfoy was seasoning the tray of cut-up vegetables like Harry had asked him to. Harry let himself watch Malfoy work, just for a few moments while he could. </p><p>Malfoy’s long, slender fingers curled around the bottles of spices, hands moving across the ingredients with the expertise he definitely didn’t have the first time he helped Harry with dinner. His lips pursed in concentration, the almost shiny, muted pink of it making it impossible for Harry’s eyes to not linger. The point of his neck that meets his jaw, the muscles on his forearms, the curve of his arse.</p><p>Well, if anything, it made sense to him why Malfoy, out of anything else, out of <em> anyone </em> else, would be the one to finally open Harry’s eyes to a truth that had been there all his life.</p><p>As if sensing being watched, Malfoy turned to him.</p><p>Harry tore his eyes away, choking on his tea. He thumped a fist against his chest as he coughed violently.</p><p>“You’ve been acting... strange the past few days.”</p><p>His throat finally clear, Harry just shrugged and fiddled with the string of his teabag. “What do you mean?”</p><p>“I...Nothing. Anyway, can I put these in now?” Malfoy raised the tray for Harry to see.</p><p>“Ah, yeah...Thanks.”</p><p>There was officially nothing left to do with Teddy’s room. The kid loved it. But here Malfoy was, still coming over like he usually did. </p><p>It felt like there was just an unspoken agreement hanging in the air between them to just keep doing what they were doing, to keep seeing each other as much as they had been. Harry wasn’t about to complain. </p><p>Then, the doorbell rang. </p><p>“Teddy?” Malfoy asked as he put the tray in the oven.</p><p>Harry got up, frowning. “Maybe. Andromeda said she wasn’t dropping him off until tomorrow, though.”</p><p>He jogged down the stairs, already preparing himself for another smug comment from Andromeda about how much time he and Malfoy were spending together and how she was to thank. But, when he opened the door, Ron and Hermione’s cheery faces greeted him. </p><p>Until this moment, he had not even thought about the fact that his former rival had become one of his closest friends and his best friends had no idea about it. </p><p>He fought the urge to slam the door in their faces. </p><p>“Hey Harry!” Hermione pulled him into a hug as Ron patted his arm. </p><p>“Er, hi?”</p><p>Ron, raising up a bottle of wine, grinned. “You said we could come over anytime, and we were obviously going to take that literally. But we brought wine!” </p><p>“I...Er...Yeah,” was all Harry could manage. </p><p>Hermione frowned. “Is it a bad time? I texted you and figured you saw it.”</p><p>Harry opened his mouth, an excuse ready on his tongue: <em> Teddy is here, and he’s sick, so it’s probably not a good idea. Maybe next time? </em></p><p>But before he could say it, there were descending footsteps on the staircase behind him. His head whipped around to see Malfoy. </p><p>“Hey, Potter, where do you keep the-” Malfoy cut himself off, his eyes going wide. “You know, what? I’ll figure it out,” he stammered before turning around immediately and heading back up the steps.</p><p>Cringing, Harry slowly faced Ron and Hermione again. </p><p>Ron was glaring at him, his mouth agape and his fingers tightening around the neck of the wine bottle he was holding. Hermione took it from him, probably concerned he was going to throw it if she didn’t, and looked at Harry with a less hostile, but still distressed, expression.</p><p>“Harry,” Ron muttered through his teeth, his ears going red. “You have like 10 seconds to explain what’s going on right now.”</p><p>Running his hands through his hair desperately, Harry shrugged. “We’re...We’re sort of friends now?”</p><p>“I’m sorry, do I need to get my hearing checked? Because I thought you just said you’re friends with Draco <em> fucking </em> Malfoy.”</p><p>“I mean, I told you I made friends with people from my support group…” Harry said carefully but regretted it immediately as Ron barked out a humorless laugh, disbelief on his face.</p><p>“Well!” Ron exclaims, throwing his hands up. “That explains <em> everything </em>, then! Not like you left out a pretty fucking important detail, huh?”</p><p>Hermione put a hand on his shoulder. “Ron…”</p><p>Harry rubbed the heel of his palm against his forehead, closing his eyes for a bit. “Look, he’s Teddy’s uncle. We were bound to cross paths and be in each other’s lives eventually! Besides, he’s been...He’s actually been really good for him.” <em> And for me </em>, he wanted to add.</p><p>“You literally went mental once trying to prove to us that he was a Death Eater!” Ron’s hands were waving around now, fingers tensed and curled in a claw-like position. “Guess what, Harry? You were right! And now you’re telling me you <em> trust </em> that git?”</p><p>“That’s not fair-”</p><p>“What part of what I’m saying isn’t fair? You could barely even look him in the eye when we worked on the same floor as him. Suddenly, what, you’re best mates?”</p><p>“<em> You two </em>are my best mates.”</p><p>That seemed to have sobered Ron, even just a bit. He sighed, settling his hands on his hips and staring at the floor. “I don't know, mate…”</p><p>“I believe Harry,” Hermione suddenly said, breaking her silence almost in a whisper. Her brows were furrowed, and she started fumbling with the label of the wine bottle, picking at it in the edges. </p><p>Ron looked at her incredulously. “You can’t be serious. <em> Why? </em>”</p><p>“Because I’m sort of friends with him too?”</p><p>A beat. </p><p>“<em> What? </em>” Harry and Ron sputtered in unison.</p><p>She winced. “Okay, no, wrong term. Definitely<em> not </em>friends. We’re more like...Civil Acquaintances? Sort-Of-Colleagues?”</p><p>Talking over each other, Harry said, “What does that even mean?” as Ron clapped his hands together, muttering, “Oh, sure, babe, that clears things up.”</p><p>Hermione rolled her eyes. “My first day of work, he apologized to me for, you know, being a racist prick to me for seven bloody years. Of course, I just told him to leave me alone, but...Well, he sort of started to really show up whenever I needed him to in the few months we worked together at the Ministry.”</p><p>Ron shook his head. “<em> How? </em>”</p><p>“Offered all his family’s old contacts when I was tracking down house elves who were still being exploited, prioritized the processing of all the documents I needed for my program proposals when he worked in admin, gave me a list of of the Hogwarts governors that secretly supported his father when he was on the board so that I could watch out for them...</p><p>“And, now, well... He’s sort of my contact at St. Mungos for the policies we’ve been drafting for Muggle-born healthcare. A lot of our official partner Healers are Pureblood higher-ups that never interact with patients. So, I reached out to Draco. We barely talk, really, but he gives me the info I need whenever I ask... All his notes from working with the kids and their families, lists of nurses who actually got to know patients, contact details of Muggle-born Healers who had the time to help us out…”</p><p>As she trailed off, Harry felt dizzy with all the information Hermione had just dumped on them, a multitude of feelings banging around in his head. </p><p>He thought back to all the times Hermione visited Malfoy’s department when they all worked at the Ministry. Harry never questioned why, even though that was the reason he came to her to ask about him when Malfoy quit. Harry had always just assumed it was because she was friends with the woman Malfoy worked with. She certainly never corrected him. “You...You never mentioned it.”</p><p>She shrugged. “He didn’t want me to say. And I wasn’t about to. I mean, for the longest time thought he was just trying to get on my good side before I realized there was really nothing in it for him...”</p><p>“Okay, okay,” Ron mumbled, pressing his fingers to his temples as if that would make it easier for his brain to absorb everything Hermione had said. </p><p>Hermione sighed. “Look, how about we start with dinner, and see where it goes from there?”</p><p>“Hermione, I’m not-”</p><p>“Ron, do you really think Andromeda and Harry would let <em> just anyone </em> into Teddy’s life?”</p><p>Ron groaned. “... <em> Fine </em>.”</p><p>Harry tried not to run away at the thought of having Ron, Hermione, and Malfoy at the same dinner table. But, he figured that if these were all people he wanted in his life, it was going to have to happen sooner later.</p>
<hr/><p>After awkward greetings and the most excruciating small talk Harry has had to endure, there he was, eating dinner with Ron, Hermione, and Malfoy. It was a ridiculous sight, really. If Ron hadn’t been shooting glares at Malfoy every few seconds or if there were a bit less uncomfortable silences between conversations, the scenario would have even been funny to Harry. </p><p>The dinner was mostly carried by Hermione and Malfoy talking about work. Documents she wanted him to go over, contact details to double-check, notes he had to owl to her. It was as if Harry hadn’t once watched Hermione punch Malfoy in the face when they were 13. </p><p>It was bizarre, to say the least, but it was better than nothing. All Ron offered were grunts whenever he was being addressed. Harry couldn’t say that much more for himself, just making noncommittal noises  and throwing in the occasional “Oh, really?” because he didn’t know what else to say. </p><p>If Harry had not grown more attuned to the little tells, Malfoy’s discomfort would have been hard to notice. But Harry did know him well enough by now and caught every slight tremble of the lip before a fake smile and subtle way his hands shook every now and then.</p><p>By the time their plates and their wine glasses were empty, though, nothing particularly terrible had happened. If Harry had bet on the dinner an hour ago, he would have put money on Ron hexing Malfoy within the first ten minutes.  </p><p>“Okay, I have to ask now,” Hermione started. “<em> How </em> did you two even become friends in the first place?”</p><p>“I, er....” Harry gave up before even saying anything. This was all too strange, and he hated it. </p><p>“We met in the support group two months ago, and Andromeda forced us to spend time together, is the short story,” Malfoy answered, shooting a sympathetic smile at Harry. </p><p>“Well, that does sound like-”</p><p>“Two months ago?” Ron asked, suddenly straightening in the seat he was slouching in for the past hour. </p><p>Obviously taken aback by Ron’s interest, Malfoy nodded slowly. “Er, I suppose?”</p><p>Harry looked at Ron questioningly as Hermione and Malfoy continued to talk about Andromeda. </p><p>Ron rolled his eyes and made a face that Harry knew said <em> You know exactly what. </em></p><p>Perplexed, Harry was about to stand up and ask Ron if they could talk alone.</p><p>Then, watching hurt flash in Ron’s eyes, he realized: Ron was doing the math in his head, and now knows that Harry started spending time with Malfoy before he even returned any of Ron’s letters. </p><p>Feeling guilty but unsure of what to do in this situation, Harry just kept quiet, trying to get Ron to look at him. </p><p>Then, a part of Hermione and Malfoy’s conversation pierced through. </p><p>“So, Teddy spends some time at your place now, then?”</p><p>Before Harry could cut in, Malfoy answered, “Oh, not really. I’m here almost every day, so whenever Potter has him, I-”</p><p>Ron put down his glass of water with a thud. “<em> Wow.”  </em></p><p>They all turned to Ron, Harry bracing himself because he knew where this was going.</p><p>Ron, with a manic, sarcastic grin on his face, looked at Harry. “So, you see this wanker ‘almost every day,’ and I’ve only seen you, what, eight times in the past year?”</p><p>Harry flinched. Ron was right. </p><p>He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could even think to panic about what he should say, Ron was already out of his chair, murmuring an <em> I’ll meet you back home </em>at Hermione, and storming out the room.</p><p>Harry stood up and rushed out after him. By the time he reached the ground floor, though, Ron was gone, and the front door was open. “<em> Fuck </em>.”</p><p>Steps creaked behind him, and he turned around. It was Hermione, her coat back on and looking at him apologetically. “I need to make sure he’s okay…”</p><p>“...”</p><p>She sighed. “He was...<em> We </em> were really hurt when you went months without talking to us. A couple of months ago, I would have never guessed we’d be seeing you this much again after a year of seeing you once in two months or so. <em> If that. </em> So, I can’t emphasize how <em> good </em> it feels to have you back. But...All that still hurt. That just...It doesn’t go away immediately.”</p><p>The pang in his chest was so strong he felt like doubling over.  “I...I’m sorry.” </p><p>Hermione shrugged it off. “And I forgive you. I know Ron does too. But...Ron was devastated all those months, but I don’t think he ever allowed himself to feel the anger too. He hates being angry with you...So, when Draco said…”</p><p>Harry nodded. “Yeah. I understand.” </p><p>She squeezed his hand. “Look, we’ll talk soon, okay? It’ll be fine. I just need to go after Ron right now. Will you be okay?”</p><p>“Mhmm. Don’t worry, ‘Mione.”</p><p>As he watched her let go of his hand and walk out, closing the door behind her, Harry felt just how huge the house was. It felt suffocating. All this space. Too much space. </p><p>His heartbeat started to pick up, and his ribs felt like closing in on him. Feeling dizzy, he sat down on the bottom step of the staircase. </p><p>Breathe in, breathe out. In, out. In, out.  “Christ, not now.”</p><p>His breathing was staying at a normal pace for once, but every inhale hurt and his throat felt too dry and full. </p><p>He closed his eyes tight and tried to shut out the thoughts. It worked for the first few minutes, but they were too much. They sounded like they were being yelled into his ear. His own voice in his head. <em> You’re going to lose them. You’re going to lose them like you lost everyone else. Like everyone else. But there’s no war anymore. What’s your excuse this time? </em></p><p>Then, he saw the forest again. Ron walking away, disappearing with a crack. And then a snake lunging at him. And then a snap of a wand. A pair of snake-like eyes. </p><p>His eyes shot open. “Jesus, stop…” he mumbled to himself. He took off the jumper he had been wearing, starting to sweat even though his skin felt cold, before balling it up and throwing it to the ground.</p><p>Losing track of his breathing, it started to shorten. Harry clasped his hands together, shaking and nails scratching at skin, and tried to focus on breathing again. He’s done this before. It’ll pass. Another 10 minutes, he figured miserably as the tightness all over his chest pressed on.</p><p>He kept his eyes open, but the images in his head continued. Less vivid, but still there. The Forbidden Forest. Endless trees. Then, black robes. A green light. </p><p>Harry gulped, shaking his head. </p><p>Then, he felt a touch on his shoulder and a creak in the step.</p><p>He wasn’t sure how he didn’t notice Malfoy coming down until he was sitting next to Harry, grabbing his hands and unclasping them to stop Harry from digging into his own skin. </p><p>Harry looked up, still breathing hard and hands shaking in Malfoy’s. </p><p>“Hey, you’re here. Look at me.”</p><p>Harry tried. But his eyes kept drifting off to the side to fixate on a blank spot in the wall, little bits of memories sparking in his brain again. </p><p>He found himself in the Great Hall again. Bodies lined up. Where was Remus? He couldn’t remember what he was wearing. He should remember what he was wearing. Was it a tweed jacket? No, that’s not right. How could he not remember? It was the last thing he wore. Maybe it was-</p><p>“C’mon, Potter, look at me.”</p><p>He tried again, to focus on Malfoy’s eyes the way he easily had all week, but he couldn’t. He just-</p><p>“<em> Look at me. </em> ” Malfoy grabbed his face with both hands gently, keeping his head still. And there they were. Those grey eyes. Soft, brown lashes. Worried crease in the brow. “Hey…You’re <em> here </em>,” Malfoy repeated. </p><p>“Y-yeah…” Harry managed. The pressure on his chest was easing up, but his heartbeat was still too fast for his liking and it still felt like he was chasing after a full breath.</p><p>“Want to tell me five things you can see?” </p><p>“<em> What? </em>” he asked in a short exhale, eyes still fixed on his. The green lights going off in his head start to fade. He focused on the grey eyes in front of him. </p><p>“Humor me.”</p><p>“Er, okay…I...I see your eyes,” he stammered out before he could stop himself.</p><p>Malfoy huffed in amusement, but the worry was still evident in his face. “Okay, that’s a start.”</p><p>“And the...The white wall behind you. And the crayon mark Teddy made,” he said, more clearly now. “I see… The rim of my glasses. And the railing of the staircase. That’s five.”</p><p>Smiling, Malfoy nodded. “Four things you hear?”</p><p>“You talking. Cars outside...Er, people on the sidewalk. The creak of this bloody step,” he said as the wood made the sound at a shift in his weight. He dropped his gaze. It reminded him of the floorboards in Shrieking Shack. The broken windows. Staying under the Invisibility cloak as he watched-</p><p>“Hey, don’t...” Malfoy whispered. </p><p>Harry’s eyes darted back to Malfoy’s face again in an instant. “I...Yeah.”</p><p>“Come on...Three things you feel.”</p><p>“Er, my hair on my forehead. The stair railing against my back…” His breathing started to slow, and he started to really remember where he was. At this time. In his home. Malfoy here. Then, he realized Malfoy’s hands were still on him, cradling his face. “Your hands…”</p><p>Malfoy’s eyes widened, and he pulled away. “Right, sorry. I forgot…” He cleared his throat, looking away for a few moments. “Er...Two things you can smell?”</p><p>When Harry took note of how fast his heart was still beating, he had a suspicion it was for a different reason this time.</p><p>“I can still smell the food we made...That and the awfully strong cologne you’re wearing that gives away how pretentious you are.”</p><p>Malfoy’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “Feeling better, then?”</p><p>Harry’s hands were still fidgeting, and he could still feel the dread at the pit of his stomach. But this was normal. This was manageable. “A bit, yeah.”</p><p>“One thing you can taste?”</p><p>His eyes flickered to Malfoy’s lips for a couple of seconds. He hoped Malfoy didn’t notice. </p><p>“The wine I finished before Ron snapped at me and left?”</p><p>Malfoy sighed. “I’m sorry about that.”</p><p>Harry shook his head. “S’not your fault. I should have told them we were friends. I was just scared of what they’d say if I told them it was easier being with-” he cut himself off, looking away. “I just...Yeah.”</p><p>“You should talk to them tomorrow.”</p><p>“I would, but Andromeda’s dropping Teddy off first thing in the morning. She's meeting with a client, so I can't ask her to come later.”</p><p>“I can come over and watch him while you visit them for a bit.”</p><p>Harry turned to him. “Really?”</p><p>He nodded, a smile on his face and a sincerity in his eyes that made Harry want to just snog him senseless at that very second. “Of course.” Then, his eyes dropped. “Your fingers.”</p><p>Harry followed Malfoy’s gaze to see the edges of his nails bleeding slightly. It was only then that he realized he’d been picking at the skin around it. “Oh. Yeah, I just-”</p><p>“Let me.” He took out his wand from his pocket and grabbed Harry’s hand. “Here we are again.”</p><p>“Oh, shut up,” Harry mumbled, trying to keep his hand from trembling in Malfoy’s and thankful that Malfoy was too preoccupied with healing him to notice the effect he was having on Harry.</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
“Harry! I haven’t seen you in a while!”</p><p>“Er, yeah, hi Tina,” Harry chuckled out awkwardly at the counter of the flower shop he used to frequent when he was dating Ginny. It was the only one open this early.</p><p>“Another bouquet for your girl?” Tina, the florist he had befriended through all his visits in the past years, asked. “She liked orchids, right?” </p><p>She was already walking towards the orchids when Harry said, “Oh, no. We actually...We actually broke up.”</p><p>Her face dropped, and she put her hands on her hips. Harry remembered liking her so much because she seemed like an older, kookier, Muggle version of Andromeda sometimes. “Oh, well that explains things... Well, I’m sorry to hear, kid! But, you know what they say, plenty of fish in the sea and all...Bet you're here for your new girl, eh?”</p><p>Harry laughed. “Er, no. I just need a potted plant that says ‘I’m Sorry for a Being a Bad Friend I’ll Try to Make Things Better and Besides I’m a Good Enough Friend to Notice That The Potted Plant On Your Coffee Table Has Been Dead for Three Weeks So Please Forgive Me.’”</p><p>She rolled her eyes fondly. “You were always a difficult customer, kid. Can’t you just point to something for once?”</p><p>Harry grinned. “Where’s the fun in that?”</p><p>She snickered, shaking her head. “I have something in the back, I’ll go get it. Just promise me you won’t be riding that blasted bike of yours. Don’t want you coming back here in ten minutes after dropping one of my potted flowers in the middle of traffic again.”</p><p>“I’m taking the bus, I swear!”</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
Harry was restless as he waited for Ron or Hermione to open the door. The nerves were starting to get to him, albeit not as intensely as the day before. If his friends didn’t live in a wizarding neighborhood where passers-by could easily notice him if he just stood there and strike up a conversation he didn’t have the energy for, he probably would have stayed outside longer, taking too much time to ring the doorbell.</p><p>When Ron, who was still in his pyjamas, opened the door, the first thing he said was, “Really? <em> Flowers? </em> Who am I? A one-night-stand you forgot to call?”</p><p>Harry felt his anxiety ebb away as he tried not to laugh, handing the gift to Ron anyway. “They’re apology flowers! Besides, you two keep forgetting to replace the dead plant on your coffee table.”</p><p>“You’re terrible at apologies,” Ron murmured, but Harry could see he was suppressing a smirk.</p><p>“I can give you a better one when you let me in.”</p><p>Ron sighed, but took a step back and gestured for Harry to come in. </p><p>“I...We should talk?” Harry said as soon as Ron shut the door.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Er…Hermione?”</p><p>“She’s still in the shower… I’ll go get her. Let her know you’re here.”</p><p>“Alright.”</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
The three of them sat around the kitchen table, his friends eyeing Harry curiously. </p><p>Ron no longer looked angry. His expression was mostly blank, but Harry caught the look in his eye. He knew Ron was back to just being worried again, pushing all that bitterness down. Harry tried not to drown in the guilt of it too much before he’d even be able to speak. Which was hard. </p><p>He took a deep breath. "I just...I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”</p><p>That was all it took for Ron and Hermione’s tense expressions to soften a little. Harry loved them so much. </p><p>“I never really gave you two an actual, full apology,” he continued. “And this is...what, a year late? But saying it now is as good as I can do at this point. So, I’m sorry. I'm sorry that I just disappeared, and that you didn't hear from me for months. I just...I spiraled into a terrible episode and the sick comfort I felt when I was alone and away from the rest of the world just got out of hand…”</p><p>Harry realized he had taken to staring hard at their table as he talked. He looked up to face them before talking again. They looked more relaxed now. Cautious, but still. “I forgot that you two <em> aren't </em> like the rest of the world. You're my best mates. And I’m sorry. I know I can't do anything right now but promise I won't do that again to you. But I <em> do </em> promise that."</p><p>There was a lull for a few moments. Harry expected Hermione to be the first to say something, but Ron finally spoke up. </p><p>“Of course we forgive you, mate. It’s just…” He sighed, crossing his arms and leaning back. “Look, I understand why all that happened. I do, alright? And I don't blame you for it. I know a lot of it was beyond your control. But...I guess understanding what you were going through and knowing that you weren't doing it intentionally didn't change the fact that...it hurt."</p><p>Harry nodded, a lump in his throat forming. “Yeah. Of course.”</p><p>Hermione leaned over and grabbed his hand. “We love you, Harry. I mean, we’re a family. So, of course, we were angry. But we were mostly scared. And sad.”</p><p>“Yeah, I-” his voice cracked before he could get the sentence out. He took a deep breath. “I… Merlin, I’m really sorry. To both of you. I...I really mean it when I say I’m going to do better this time.”</p><p>Ron gave him a small smile. “I know, mate. And we believe you. I mean, you<em> were </em>already doing better. We know you’re sticking around this time. Things really were getting back to normal, weren’t they? Last night was just… Well, I reckon all the anger I was pushing down was bound to explode, huh? I’m sorry for that.”</p><p>“Don’t be. I deserved it.”</p><p>“Ah, come on, mate-”</p><p>“No, no, really. I did. I can't blame everything on the trauma, can’t I? Yes, that's why I stayed away. But I'm still a bloody adult, with adult relationships and decisions. And the choices I made hurt you both. And I won't do that again.</p><p>Hermione squeezed his hand before letting go. “We know that, Harry.”</p><p>“So, er... Are we all okay?”</p><p>Shrugging, she looked back and forth between the boys. “I mean, we were already okay. We just haven’t really been actually talking about this.”</p><p>Ron snorted. “By ‘we’ do you mean me and Harry because we’re crap at this?” </p><p>Hermione put her hands up defensively. “Well, <em> I </em>wasn’t going to say it.”</p><p>Harry managed to laugh, but the uneasiness he could feel all over his body wasn’t completely gone. It was better, though. He watched his friends chuckle and shake their hands fondly at how lost they all seemed as they navigated this weird thing that was going to hang between them for a bit longer. </p><p>“But yeah. We’re okay,” Ron made a point of saying, probably sensing Harry’s anxiety.</p><p>“Good. That’s...good.” Harry let out a breath, and it felt like he’s been holding it since the evening before. </p><p>“Just...Next time you befriend someone I thought we <em> all </em>decided we hated,” Ron said, throwing exaggerated accusatory looks at both Harry and Hermione, “maybe a heads up would be nice."</p><p>“You’re being dramatic,” Hermione said to Ron, rolling her eyes. “Malfoy and I aren’t even friends, really.”</p><p>Ron scoffed. “This is Draco Malfoy we’re talking about. Anything short of punching that git in the face is already too friendly for me. But if you two say the bloke’s alright, then I guess I’ll have to wait and see, won’t I?” he said the last few words through his teeth. </p><p>“Exactly,” she replied immediately.</p><p>“So,” Harry started apprehensively, “about Malfoy. This really won’t be a problem?”</p><p>“I mean I’m not happy about it. But if he’s your friend now...Then fine. As long as he doesn’t fucking try anything.” He turns to Hermione. “And as long as you’re not saying it’s okay just because you feel like you owe him for his help. Which is the <em> least </em>he could do after everything he’s done and said, by the way.”</p><p>She gave him a dismissive wave of the hand. “It’s fine, Ron. I obviously don’t completely trust him yet, but I do think he’s changed. And I trust Harry and Andromeda.”</p><p>Harry shot her a grateful smile.</p><p>“Okay, but really though...What is it about him?” Ron asked. </p><p>“Oh, er...He just sort of came into my life at the exact moment I realized I was ready to get better, I guess…” He took a deep breath, and before he could hesitate, he continued, baring himself a bit more. “And, well... He understood what it was like to emerge from a war feeling like nothing more than a shell made of everything the world was expecting us to be...So, he’s been really good at helping me through that...</p><p>“Besides, being around him - this new Malfoy - just made me realize that I… That I stand a chance in outrunning the war.”</p><p>“What do you mean?” Hermione asked. </p><p>“It’s like…” Harry straightened, starting to gesture in an attempt to grasp at words that would be enough to convey the warmth that was starting to spread in his chest the more he thought of him. “Seeing him like this... Constantly putting in the effort to be good and kind and self-aware after everything he’s been through and forced to believe? And succeeding at that every day? It was a reminder that no one has to be trapped as the person everyone else decided them to be all their lives.”</p><p>“S’that what you always feel like?” Ron had a concerned look on his face. </p><p>Harry felt exposed by how much he was saying. But it also felt good to be really letting them in this time. So, he lets himself continue.</p><p>“Not as much now, but yeah. I mean, all the flashbacks and anxiety… Obviously, it’s because we all went through fucked up shit. But it’s also because I’m terrified of who I had to be as a kid. And terrified because people still see me that way. Sometimes, I still feel like every bloody decision I make that doesn’t align perfectly with who the world still expects to be can mean life or death like it did during the war.</p><p>“So, I figured that hiding from the world was the only way to not feel that pressure. But getting to know him just...proved me wrong. Showed me we could still live lives outside these roles forced on us and outside all that tragedy and loss without shutting everyone out…”</p><p>“I’m annoyed that you’re making sense right now,” Ron mumbles. </p><p>Harry huffed in amusement, relieved. “I am?”</p><p>Ron groaned. “Yeah. You do. I guess if he’s...<em> good for you </em>,” his voice sounded strained as he said it, “then I can tolerate him.” </p><p>Smiling, Harry could feel more tension leave his body. “Yeah? It’s not just that, though. The bloke actually is legitimately fun to be around.” </p><p>Hermione grimaced. “Now that’s pushing it.”</p><p>“He is!” Harry insisted, chuckling at the disgust on their faces. “Still a bit uptight, yeah, but he’s funny. And interesting. And he’s really good with Teddy.”</p><p>Ron turned to Hermione. “‘Mione, I know it’s eight in the morning, but do you want me to bring out the wine? I can’t be sober for this.”</p><p>Hermione laughed, and Harry rolled his eyes, kicking Ron underneath the table. “I’m serious! I think you two could be friends if you tried.”</p><p>Ron raised his eyebrows at him.</p><p>“Okay, <em> friendly </em>then!”</p><p>“No, no, you’re right,” Hermione said to Harry. “We’re going out for drinks next weekend with Neville and Luna, right? You should invite him.”</p><p>Harry perked up. “Really?”</p><p>Ron frowned. “Yeah, Hermione. Really?”</p><p>“Yes,” she stated with a sense of finality and a pointed look at Ron. “He’s Harry’s friend. And Teddy’s uncle. We can at least try, can’t we?”</p><p>Sighing, Ron slumped back into his seat. “I know, I know.” He squints at Harry. “But one step out of line from him and you’re not allowed to hold me back while I hex him.”</p><p>“Fair.” </p><p>“Anyway,” Ron starts, getting up from the table. “I’m going to go have a shower as I try to wrap my head around this whole Trying to Be Friends With Malfoy thing. You staying for long?”</p><p>“Nah. I have Teddy today.”</p><p>Ron slapped him on the back as he walked past him. “Alright. Well, have some breakfast at least. Or take a nap before you leave. You look fucking terrible.” </p><p>Harry rolled his eyes. “Oh, fuck you!” he called after him as Ron walked out of the kitchen, chuckling.</p><p>When he turned back to Hermione, she was looking at him with a worried expression.</p><p>Harry frowned. “Oh, no. Did I leave something out?”</p><p>“No, no, you’re good,” she said, suddenly preoccupied with a book lying in front of her. </p><p>One look at her still eyes was enough for Harry to be sure she wasn’t actually reading anything.</p><p>“Hermione.”</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>“I thought the bloody moral of the day was that we all needed to communicate more,” Harry said, grabbing snatching the book away.</p><p>Hermione made a noise of protest, but Harry cut her off.</p><p>“Why are you looking at me like that?”</p><p>She shrugged. “Like what!”</p><p>“Like I’m going to get in trouble again!”</p><p>Hermione shifted in her seat for a few moments before taking a deep breath. “No. I don’t want to overstep boundaries. And I don’t want you to feel put on the spot or -” </p><p>“You’re killing me, ‘Mione. Spit it out. I want you to.”</p><p>“Fine. It’s just...” She leaned forward on her folded arms on the table. “It’s him, isn’t it?”</p><p>He stared at her. “Who? What?”</p><p>She rolled her eyes. “Remember that talk we had last week?”</p><p>Harry suddenly felt all the blood leave his face. </p><p>“What about it?” It came out in a snap, and he immediately felt guilty. But it didn’t seem to faze her. </p><p>“The person you fancy… It’s Draco, isn’t it?”</p><p>“W-what? That’s…Why would you even-” To hear it said aloud for the first time was too much. His mouth was too dry now. And the room was suddenly too hot. Harry stood up - a bit too abruptly and carelessly, his hips jolting the table a little - and stammered out an excuse about having to go. </p><p>Hermione grabbed him by the arm before he could leave.</p><p>“No, Harry, stay. Please. We don’t have to talk about that. I- I was wrong. I’m sorry, it was dumb.” She looked up at him, a sympathetic expression on her face that made it obvious she didn’t believe what she was saying at all.</p><p>But, skin crawling and pulse still rising, he sat back down anyway. </p><p>“Okay,” he mumbled. “It <em> was </em> dumb.”</p><p>“Definitely.” She was nodding a bit too enthusiastically to be convincing. “It was just a stupid guess.”</p><p>“Right.”</p><p>“Right,” she repeated.</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>They sat there, not saying anything for a few minutes. Harry traced the wood grain pattern of the kitchen table, hyperaware of the relentless thrumming of his nerves. Hermione had gotten her book back from him, but it just laid open before her. He knew she was stealing apprehensive glances at him every seven seconds. </p><p>Finally, Hermione closed her book. “Anyway, I found this new Indian restaurant that-”</p><p>“Is it that obvious?” Harry said suddenly as he looked up at her, surprising himself as it tumbled out of his mouth. </p><p>The faux nonchalance faded from Hermione’s face, making way for a pity. “Oh, Harry…”</p><p>“Fuck!” Harry dropped his head to the table, burying his face in his arms. “Fuck fuck fuck.” </p><p>“I...I’m sorry that I assumed it was a girl.” </p><p>“Why wouldn’t you? I thought I was straight until <em> him </em>.” It came out muffled as he murmured it into his sleeves.</p><p>“I can’t understand you...” Hermione tugged on his arm, prompting him to sit up. </p><p>And he did, but he still pointedly avoided Hermione’s gaze.</p><p>“So…” Hermione started.</p><p>“Does that bother you?” Harry asked, a small quiver in voice. “That I’m-”</p><p>“Oh, god.” Hermione must have noticed the shake in his words, because she immediately left her seat and crouched in front of Harry, putting her hands on his knees. “Hey, come on. Of course not.”</p><p>“Okay, okay… Good.” Harry lets out a nervous laugh, meeting her gaze. “You never answered my question.”</p><p>She looked baffled for a moment, then her eyebrows went up as she realized what he meant. “Oh. Well... It’s not<em> that </em> obvious. I just haven’t seen your face light up like that when you talk about someone since Ginny. And you have been so relaxed and happy lately. I know it’s not all Draco, it’s also you putting in the work. But between yesterday and everything you just told us, it just sort of...clicked?”</p><p>“I... Okay.” Harry set his glasses down and ran his hands all over his face, unsure of how to feel. “Merlin, do you think Ron knows? Do you think it’ll bother him?”</p><p>Hermione stood up, leaning on the edge of the table with her arms crossed. “First of all, I love that man but he might be the most oblivious person ever when it comes to things to like this, so no. And second, he literally has two gay brothers who he constantly plays matchmaker for, so I don’t know why you’d think-” </p><p>“Percy and Charlie haven’t brought home any former Death Eaters if I’m not mistaken!”</p><p>She scrunched up her face. “Right. Okay, maybe the Malfoy of it all is another story. But he’ll come around if you do choose to tell him.” </p><p>Harry sighed. “If you say so.”<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p>“I-...I’m glad that all’s good,” Ron said, rubbing the back of his head as he stood on the front porch with Harry as he was about to leave.</p><p>Harry smiled. “Me too, mate.”</p><p>“Oh, er...Before you head home…” He pulled out a piece of paper with a phone number on it and handed it to Harry. </p><p>“What’s this?”</p><p>“There’s one more person you need to let back into your life.”</p><p>The paper suddenly felt heavy in Harry’s hand, but he folded it anyway and kept it in his pocket. “Ginny.”</p><p>Ron nodded. “That’s her home number. Writing her is a nightmare now. She always loses our letters.”</p><p>“Piles of mail from fans?”</p><p>He chuckled. “Yeah.” </p><p>“I’ll call her on the way back. Is she coming to the thing next Friday?”</p><p>Ron looked guilty. “Yes. We were sort of waiting to tell you. Sorry”</p><p>Snorting, Harry shook his head. “It’s fine. It’s about time anyway. I’ll see if she wants to meet up before then.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>When Harry got back to Grimmauld Place, he went directly up to Teddy’s bedroom where he found his godson fast asleep and Malfoy sitting next to him, reading a paperback.</p><p>"He's asleep,” Harry suddenly blurted out, realizing Teddy never took naps before lunch. </p><p>Malfoy looked up from his book. "Oh, you're back. Er, yeah."</p><p>"Is he alright?" he asked as he approached the bed, taking a seat on Teddy’s other side. He pressed the back of his hand against Teddy’s forehead then his neck.</p><p>"He’s not sick or anything, don’t worry,” Malfoy said, closing his book and putting it aside. “He was just really tired when he got here. Andromeda said she just lost track of time and let him stay up way too late last night."</p><p>“Oh, alright,” Harry said, relieved. “Did she fall asleep while watching cartoons with him and woke up to find him still awake at midnight?”</p><p>Malfoy chuckled. “I’m guessing that’s happened before?”</p><p>Harry tried not to think about how good it felt to hear that laugh after his eventful morning. “A couple of times, yeah.”</p><p>"So, how was it?"</p><p>"How was-? Oh. Yeah. It went well. We talked it out."</p><p>"That's great. You need your friends. I'm getting quite tired of being the one spending time with you all the time,” Malfoy said with an exaggerated sneer.</p><p>Trying to keep in a laugh so as not to wake Teddy, Harry reached over his godson to punch Malfoy in the shoulder. "Such a prick."</p><p>Malfoy snickered before sighing. "No, really. I'm glad you worked it out...And that I don't have to worry about Weasley attacking me next time I see him."</p><p>"Yeah, speaking of..."Do you want to come have a few drinks with us this weekend?."</p><p>Malfoy tensed. "Oh. Uh...I-"</p><p>Harry could tell that Malfoy was already screening dozens of excuses in his head. "Asking was just a formality, by the way. Hermione is sort of demanding you be there. So that they can, you know. Make an effort to be friends with you too."</p><p>He frowned. "I don't know, Potter."</p><p>"Oh, come on. It'll be fun. I'd really love it if my friends didn't want to kill each other."</p><p>Malfoy scoffed. "<em> I </em> don't have a problem with them. <em> They </em> have a problem with me. And for good reason."</p><p>Harry poked him hard on the shoulder. "That’s not true. Hermione doesn't. And Ron, well,...he wants to try."</p><p>Malfoy looked at him, a “please don’t make me do this” expression on his face.</p><p>Ignoring his protests, Harry added, "You never told me, by the way. About how much you've been helping Hermione."</p><p>That took him off guard. His shoulders relaxed. "It's nothing, really."</p><p>"It's not nothing. That was...Er…It’s really cool of you,” Harry managed, not knowing how else to convey how in awe he is of every new thing he has learned about him these past few months without giving too much away.</p><p>Malfoy smiled. “Thank you, I guess.” </p><p>“<em> Hermione thinks so too. </em>...” Harry added in a singsong manner. “And I think you two could work so much better if you two were friends....”</p><p>Malfoy groaned. “Okay, <em> fine </em>.”</p><p>Harry beamed at him. “Brilliant! Hermione and Ron and everyone else will like you, I swear.”</p><p>Narrowing his eyes, he cocked his head to the side. “<em> Everyone else? </em>”</p><p>Standing up, Harry clapped his hands. “Anyway, I’m going to make us lunch.”</p><p>“Potter.”</p><p>“Wake Teddy up in a bit, okay?” Harry called over his shoulder cheekily as he walked out of the room, deciding that he’ll be a lot more convincing once he’s cooked food for Malfoy again.</p><p>“<em> Potter! </em>”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>- next chapter: harry mends things with ginny, draco meets the gang, and drunk shenanigans<br/>- talk to me about the fic or anything drarry  @ ginnywcasleys on tumblr!!!! u can also pressure me to write and update lmao i probably need it<br/>- thank u so much for the comments and kudos!!!!!!!! they rly keep me going and motivate me to keep writing abt these dumb boys</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. i cannot find the breath to scream the words out right</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Draco is starting to pick up on signs that Harry might fancy him but tries to ignore it, the gang gets back together for a night of drinks and celebrations, and Harry says more that he planned to.</p><p>or </p><p>the boys are still being stupid abt romantic relationships but who can blame them when they're traumatized and were made to believe they don't deserve love : (</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><span>“Fine!” Draco flopped back onto the sofa. “I’ll stay for</span> <span>a couple of hours. </span><em><span>At most.</span></em><span>”</span></p><p>
  <span>Potter stood in front of him triumphantly, hands on his hips. “Excellent!” He turned towards the direction of the next room where they could see Teddy drawing. “Hear that, kid!? I won!” he yelled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teddy, who had no idea what they had been bickering about, looked up at his godfather and raised the crayons he was holding in excitement anyway. “Yay!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco shook his head. “He’ll cheer for anything you say in that tone, won’t he?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Potter sat next to him, amused. “It’s not my fault </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>sound so uptight all the time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s quite a lot of nerve from someone asking me to do the absolute last thing I want to be doing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sighing, Potter nodded. “Okay, fair. Sorry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you want me there so bad anyway?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugged. “Seeing everyone else again after shutting them out is going to be weird. I figured that...You know…It would be easier if you were there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is the plan for them to redirect any negative emotions towards your new ex-Death Eater friend?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know that’s not what I meant,” Potter said, his voice going quiet. Then, he dropped his gaze and started to fiddle with a crayon he found next to him. “I meant that you...You’ve been the easiest person for me to be around lately. So, it’ll help.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco has to remind himself to breathe. “Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...It’s just...I feel like I’m overstepping.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll be fine.” He sighed as Draco shot him a doubtful look. “I know that saying they have a good reason to not like you is an understatement. I’m not stupid, okay? But they also know how brainwashed you were. And that the moment you weren’t, you didn’t just leave that part of your life behind, you also acknowledged everything you did wrong and put in the work to be better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That doesn’t mean they owe me forgiveness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it doesn’t,” Potter agreed. “And no one is forcing them to. But they’re all willing to see for themselves whether or not they do anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Okay. I suppose,” Draco muttered. “So, they know I’m coming?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. It was...A bit harder to sell Ginny on it,” he admitted, “but she came around. I mean, she kept in touch with Andromeda even after our breakup, so she’s known for a bit that you’re in Teddy’s life. But, well…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She didn’t know I was in </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Potter nodded. “Basically.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lovely.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll be fine!” Potter insisted. “Besides, I’ll try to, you know, talk to her more about it when I meet with her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hah. Alright...So,” Draco started, trying to sound as casual as he possibly could, “you’re really doing that, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Potter let out a long exhale. “Yeah, guess so. She didn’t sound like she hated me on the phone when I invited her to dinner, so…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well. Good luck.” Draco wanted the floor to swallow him for how tense his voice sounded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Potter didn’t seem to notice. “Thanks... Honestly, I’m strangely really looking forward to it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco could feel something inside him twist. “That…That’s good. And you’re obviously better now. I’m sure that if you two tried again, this time it’ll work.” Listening to what was coming out of his own mouth felt like an out-of-body experience. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Potter frowned. “I’m not trying to get her back, Malfoy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m simply saying that if you wanted to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I don’t.” There was a firmness in Potter’s voice this time. And a little confusion. Then, he added, slightly under his breath, “What’s with everyone and my love life lately…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Everyone’?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nevermind,” Potter said, shaking his head. “What about you? Any more hot dates lately?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, don’t play dumb. Astoria mentioned you were a heartbreaker of sorts once,” Potter said, grinning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco groaned. “She exaggerates.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you not remember showing up here two weeks ago wearing the same outfit as the night before? Oh, and the </span>
  <em>
    <span>body glitter</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flushing as he remembered why exactly he shagged that man, Draco waved his hand dismissively. “Can we not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not what? I’m just asking! Are you going to see him again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco furrowed his brow. “What? No.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something shifted in Potter’s expression, not quite as teasing anymore. “Are you sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Potter, I’m quite sure I’m not seeing a random Muggle bloke whose name I don’t even remember again,” Draco deadpanned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco peered at him curiously. “Why do you even care?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Potter shrugged, grabbing the remote and facing the telly. “I don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Potter turned on the telly and settled on a Muggle news channel. “Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat in silence for a few minutes, Draco feeling tense about Potter’s questions for a reason he can’t quite place. Or at least one he didn’t want to let himself think to be a possibility. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few news stories in, Potter finally piped up. “Are you coming to support group this week?.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Potter turned to him. “You haven’t gone in a while. If it’s me, we can always just go on separate-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no, no it’s not that,” Draco said, fighting back the urge to say that of course it wasn’t that. That, if anything, seeing him made any place one Draco wanted to be in. “I just don’t think I need it anymore. For now, at least.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know if that was true. But Draco </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> feeling better. He hadn’t been thinking about his father as much as he had been when he first started going. And he hoped this was going to last. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Potter smiled and bumped their shoulders lightly. Draco’s heart felt the slightest bit tighter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s good, Malfoy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But if you’re going to miss me so much, we can have dinner afterwards?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As if you need a reason to come over and make me cook for your spoiled arse like you already do,” Potter quipped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I help!</span>
  <em>
    <span> And</span>
  </em>
  <span> I buy the groceries!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shaking his head, Potter chuckled. “Okay, that’s fair,” he mumbled as he started to turn the volume up on a news report that seemed to have caught his eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reeling from the domesticity of it all, Draco sighed. “I should just bloody move in at this point.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s only when Potter half-faced him, eyes still on the screen and a small “Hmm?” escaping his mouth, that Draco realized he had said it out loud. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing,” Draco said, grateful that Potter hadn’t heard but still feeling the strong urge to scream into one of the throw pillows.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>“Let me get this right,” Astoria said as she pushed aside her empty tray and leaned forward, lowering her voice. “You think you officially don’t have a chance with Harry just because he’s going to have dinner with some girl he hasn’t talked to for almost a year.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco crossed his arms. “Most people don’t call Ginny Weasley, Quidditch Star and long-term girlfriend of Harry Potter, ‘Some Girl.’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ex</span>
  </em>
  <span>-girlfriend,” she corrected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t matter. He was in love with her for three years,” Draco pointed out before shoving the last bite of his lunch into his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I threw this in a random direction right now,” he said, holding up his fork and gesturing around the cafeteria with it, “I guarantee you I would hit someone who’d agree with me that Quidditch Star Ginny Weasley and the Chosen One are probably going to end up together.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah, because overworked Healers and patients who have read too many Rita Skeeter articles while stuck in this place are the kind of credibility we need in this in conversation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what I mean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Frankly, I don’t,” she replied. “I’m not saying I’m sure he fancies you too, Draco. But you owe it to yourself to accept that possibility instead of flat out ignoring it to the point that you may be missing a few clues that his feelings for you might not be strictly platonic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scoffed. “There are no clues to miss, Astoria.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Astoria held up one finger. “He sends you pastries while you’re at work.” She put up another finger. “You two have practically just been playing house for the past two months.” And another. “He can’t go a few days without seeing you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before she could continue, Draco grabbed her hand and put it down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would have run out of fingers anyway,” she said, shrugging. “I’m right, aren’t I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And she was. Draco knew that if this were any other bloke, he would have already assumed that they fancied him at this point. But Potter was straight. And was everyone’s Golden Boy. And Draco had about a hundred reasons why letting himself think that Potter would actually fancy him back would just ruin him in ways he had long since outgrown. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to tell Astoria that. Tell her that these feelings - the enormity and relentlessness of them - weren’t good for him. That his mother was right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was once,” he said instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The pastries,” he clarified. “That only happened once.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saw the parcel on your work table this morning,” she accused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Those were just leftovers from the batch we made that he wanted me to bring home. I forgot them, so he sent them over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She raised an eyebrow. “So, when you said this morning that you were exhausted because you had a late night, you didn’t mean work? You were baking cookies in the middle of the night with the Bloke Who Is Definitely Not Into You?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Astoria shot him a look of disbelief. “Okay. That’s it,” she said, standing up with her tray. “I love you, but my break is over and that’s my quota for oblivious nonsense for the day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco rolled his eyes and threw a crumpled up paper napkin at her.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Draco got home later than he thought. He had waited for Potter to finish with support group and eaten dinner with him afterwards despite having a long day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thought for a moment about how, whether or not Potter fancied him back, he must at least know by this point how Draco felt about him. There was no way he could see how Draco acted and moved his schedule around him and still not know. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then again, Potter did seem to be the oblivious type. Draco knew he’d been painfully obvious since the start, but Potter never gave any indication that he had a clue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco trudged his way to the stairwell leading to the second floor where his bedroom was. A soft snore stopped him in his tracks</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He peered into his mother’s room. The door was open, which it never was in the evenings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mother was asleep, curled up against the bay window. There was an empty bottle of wine on her lap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco turned the lights on, thinking that would be enough to wake her. When it wasn’t, he approached her and shook her gently. “Hey, mum.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stirred for a few moments, mumbling incoherently, before slowly opening her eyes. “Oh. Darling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on. Let’s get you to bed.” He propped her up carefully before grabbing her waist and draping one of her arms around his shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was light, so he was able to get her back into her bed easily. He pulled the covers over her, making a mental note to ask her if she was okay tomorrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaned over to kiss her on the forehead. “‘Night, mum.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he could leave, his mother’s journal on the nightstand caught his eye. It was opened on a mostly blank page. The only thing written on it was the date in the top left corner. Below it, there were a few wonky lines, as if she had attempted to write more but couldn’t. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco frowned. Then, as he looked at the date again, it clicked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A year ago today was the last time his mother had visited his father in Azkaban. And he remembered it was the last because he passed away a few weeks after. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Feeling the sudden need to do something with his hands as his fingers started to tremble, he busied himself with adjusting his mother’s blanket, tucking her in tighter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as he left the room, he sank to the floor against the closed door without meaning to, his legs just giving way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembered his mother angrily leaving for Azkaban that day. It was when he had received that last letter from his father, filled with death threats and promises that there were still men walking free who would do his dirty work for him. His father had made vague threats before, but there was something different about the ones in that letter. There was intention behind them. A plan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco didn’t know what his mother had said to his father that last visit, but it was enough to make him stop writing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not enough to keep Draco from spiralling from the debilitating fear, though. He had missed weeks of work and broken up with the bloke he’d been seeing at the time because of it. Draco knew he only managed to keep Astoria around because of her adamance to visit him almost every day to make sure he was okay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then came the twisted mix of relief and grief that he couldn’t understand when his father passed away just weeks later. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco clutched at the front of his shirt as if that would tame the pain in his chest. He had forgotten how bad it had been. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The past year has been good for him, good for recovering from the mess of hurt and fear and anger his father had made him feel. With the support group meetings. With the job lined up at Hogwarts and the work he’s done at St. Mungo’s. With his mother, and Astoria, and Teddy, and Andromeda, and...Potter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hoped that it was enough to stop him from slipping this time around as his father’s death anniversary approached. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It has to be</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought as he stood up and carefully made his way up the stairs.</span>
</p>
<hr/><hr/><p>
  <span>A bell chimed as the restaurant’s door opened, and Harry looked up immediately. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There she was. Bright red hair in a high ponytail and an open coat just thrown over a cropped muscle tee and jeans as if that was enough to keep her warm outside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry waved to get her attention, hand stuttering with hesitation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she spotted him, she waved back and headed his way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harry!” she greeted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stood up, his legs feeling weak, and extended a hand before he could decide if that was a good idea or not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She eyed his hand. “A handshake? Oh, you’re ridiculous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry was about to stammer something out when Ginny pulled him into a bear hug. For a moment, his arms were just frozen at his side in surprise, but he slowly started to hug back. His nerves began to ease. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they took their seats, Ginny looked around the restaurant as she picked up the menu. “I’ve always wanted to try this place out.” Then, she paused and looked at Harry, a weak smile on her face. “I mean, I know we always meant to, but-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I fucked up and ruined everything before we could?” Harry finished.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I wasn’t going to put it </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>way,” she said, a concerned but slightly amused expression on her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry sighed. “Yeah, look, about that…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, no, don’t,” Ginny said firmly as she set the menu down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He raised his eyebrows at her. “What? I just want to ap-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, I figured,” she mumbled, waving her hand dismissively before settling it on his and looking him in the eye. She gripped tight. “Honestly? I’m sort of sick of apologies. I’ve gotten all your letters when we first broke up, okay? I don’t know in what new ways you were planning to say ‘I’m sorry,’ but save it. I forgive you. I always have.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understood what you were going through. At least, as much as I could. And it was a real crap thing you did. But...It was never unforgivable,” she said, rubbing a thumb over his knuckles. “I think I forgave you as soon as you owned up to what you needed and broke up with me, to be honest. Just didn’t realize it until you sent me all those apologies. So, we’re alright. I’m just...I really just want to be friends again because I’m sick of the spiel at this point.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry let the words sink in as he stared at the spot on the table where their hands met. He kept half-expecting something in him to stir despite knowing he was over her as if he was waiting to find out that he’d been lying to himself all this time. But the only thing that was bubbling in his gut was reluctant relief. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” he breathed out, eyes returning to her. “It’s just that...The few Burrow dinners I went to since then...It didn’t seem like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She scoffed. “Oh, come on, Harry. Just because I forgave you didn’t mean I wanted to be around and talk to the boy who dumped me. Especially when I was still in love with you then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And…” Harry prompted carefully. At her confused stare, he continued, “You’re not anymore?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” she said. Then, her eyes grew wide and she jerked her hand away from his. “Oh, Merlin this isn’t what this is about right? Harry, I don’t want to get back to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, god, no,” Harry said as soon as it dawned on him what she was talking about, pulling his hand away from the center of the table as well. “Don’t worry. I don’t either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She tilted her head back and let out a breath. “Okay. Good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just really wanted to fix things. Be friends again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ginny nodded. “Friends again. I like the sound of that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He beamed. “Yeah.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry could finally feel his heart start to slow to a regular pace as he watched her smile. It reached her eyes, crinkling at the corners. It was the kind of smile - wide, and alive, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span> - that could fool any other person into thinking he had never broken her heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He once spent months terrified that he could never make her smile like that again, but here they were. Not being in love with her anymore didn’t take the beauty of it away.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>“So, this really isn’t a prank? You’re really </span>
  <em>
    <span>friends</span>
  </em>
  <span> with him now?” she said, gagging at the word ‘friends.’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pulled her legs up to sit cross-legged on the park bench they were on. “This should be fun.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He eyed her curiously. “So, you’re really alright with it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, I really don’t want to have a bloody pint with Draco fucking Malfoy...But,” she added, looking frustrated, “I know he’s sort of - </span>
  <em>
    <span>ugh</span>
  </em>
  <span> - Teddy’s family now…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” she said emphatically, “I’m going to hate this, but I’m not stubborn. He apologized to all of us even before you decided to testify for him, and he’s been doing good these past four years… I mean, Merlin, he was practically brainwashed…” she trailed off, mumbling to herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kept quiet, just watching her talk herself into it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, she stopped and looked up. “Luna and Neville are alright with this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry nodded. “Neville was easy to convince. Apparently, McGonagall talked to him about it long ago since they’re going to be co-workers and she wanted to make sure the rest of the faculty was on board.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And Luna?” She said it like a challenge. She was right to. After all, Luna was the one who was imprisoned by the Malfoys in the war.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed. “You remember how, after the war, she was always the one who told me I didn’t make a mistake testifying for Malfoy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Right.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luna had told him after the trials that she knew Malfoy never had much of a choice for the things he did in the war. Told him about the things she had heard when she was trapped in the Manor. That every shouted order from Malfoy’s father came with a death threat. That she didn’t know how he survived that many Cruciatus Curses without losing his sanity. That she could still remember the way Malfoy’s screams sounded and that, the few times she had seen him, there was always a new cut, a new bruise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That - and his whole childhood - doesn’t excuse anything he did. I know that,” Harry reassured. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>He</span>
  </em>
  <span> knows that. But…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s complicated,” Ginny finished, nodding slowly. “Because he was also just a kid forced to fight in a war…Like us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” was all Harry could manage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you still get attacks? And the flashbacks?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It caught Harry off guard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes. Not as bad or as often, though. You?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shrugged. “A few nightmares now and then...Nothing I can’t handle.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled at her. “Me too. Also, well...He helps.” Harry wasn’t sure why he’s offering this information. Maybe it’s because, before Malfoy, it was mostly her who held his hand through the attacks, waiting for him to ground himself and remember where he was. He knew she understood what that meant to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Really?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” She shook her head. “Well. I’m glad he does.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were silent for a moment, just staring at the pond a few feet across from them, until she spoke again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Merlin. You and Draco Malfoy. Friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. It’s weird,” Harry said, a tiny thought at the back of his head adding, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wait till you hear what else we would be if it were up to me. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re such a traitor,” she teased, nudging his knee with hers. “Remember when we made plans to turn his cubicle into a swamp Fred-and-George-style when we first found out you two were going to work together? And we never did it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was drunk when I agreed to that!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you got plastered just because you hated the thought of working on the same floor with the bloke, and now here we are,” she said, dramatically gesturing in a sweeping motion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here we are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, speaking of getting plastered,” she said, standing up, “I’ll see you and the rest tomorrow? Had an early practice today, and I’m knackered.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure. Want me to bring you home?” he asked, getting up as well. “I know you miss the bike,” he added. Ginny was the only one who wasn’t terrified at the thought of riding it. She had even squealed in excitement earlier when he had told her they could take his bike from the restaurant to the park.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Ginny said, pouting. “But, it’s probably not a good idea. My new place is in the Wizarding neighborhood. Not really in the mood for someone to see us together and our faces making headlines tomorrow.”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckled. “Yeah, okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ginny stepped forward and hugged him. This time he doesn’t hesitate to hug back tighter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Missed you so much, Harry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart hurt from the way her voice strained the slightest bit as she said it. He didn’t ever want to hurt anyone like this again. “I missed you too.”</span>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<span>When Harry arrived at the pub, Malfoy was waiting outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you waiting out here?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t want to go in without you,” Malfoy mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry touched him lightly on the elbow, barely a brush of fingertips against fabric. Anything else would be too much right now. Malfoy, with his cold-flushed cheeks and a tight black turtleneck underneath his open coat, was already making it hard for Harry to not visibly swoon. “It’ll be fine. Come on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry opened the door. It was full of loud university-aged students. Well, their age, he reminded himself. It was hard to not forget that he would have been barely out of school right now if he was a Muggle. He felt older than he was most of the time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He held the door open for Malfoy, who reluctantly walked in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are they?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry shrugged, tiptoeing a bit to get a better view. The pub was crowded and dim, and there were people standing up and going from table to table. “I’m not sure, let’s check-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Harry!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned to his right to see Luna She was wearing a long dress with blue and pink stripes, combat boots, and a bright red jacket that looked two sizes too large. He grinned as he spotted the radish earrings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Luna!” He pulled her into a hug without a second thought, the anxiety of seeing everyone in one place evaporating at the sight of her. There was just something calming about Luna he still couldn’t place after years of knowing her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they pulled back, she was beaming at him. “Nice to see you again, Harry. It’s been a while. Your hair is longer,” she said in her dreamy lilt as she reached to touch his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hah. Yeah. I think I like it like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded. “Me too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes flickered over Harry’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, right,” Harry said, stepping aside and throwing Malfoy a last look of encouragement. “Luna, you know Malfoy…” Harry wanted to laugh at how ridiculous that sounded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Luna just smiled. “Hello Draco,” she said, looking at him up and down. “You look…” she trailed off, squinting and biting down her lip as if his face were a puzzle for a few seconds, “...kinder. I like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy opened his mouth but nothing came out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyway, I’m just going to the loo. They’re over there,” she said, pointing to the direction she came from before walking away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy turned to Harry. “I like her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry chuckled, looking fondly at his befuddled expression. He just shook his head. “I figured you would.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well. Shall we?” he asked, glancing at the direction Luna had pointed to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry followed his gaze and saw his friends in a big corner booth, laughing and talking animatedly. “Yeah, let’s go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When his friends spotted them, they erupted into a chorus of greetings. They were a lot less tense than he expected them to be, but judging by the few empty pints and glasses on the table, he had the alcohol to thank.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neville got up to greet him, enveloping him in a hug. “Hey mate!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, hey Neville!” Harry clapped him on the back. “Nice to see you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>professor</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed, blushing a little. “ I did not Floo back here for the weekend just to be called that!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ginny cleared her throat, and Harry turned to see she was looking pointedly at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. Yeah,” he mumbled. He put a hand on Malfoy’s shoulder. “Everyone, Malfoy. Malfoy, everyone,” Harry said, gesturing around the booth before he and Neville took a seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. Er, hello?” Malfoy said as he sat next to Harry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron leaned over the table. Harry was about to panic when he saw that he was just extending a hand to Malfoy. “Look, mate, I’m only doing this because my</span>
  <em>
    <span> idiot </span>
  </em>
  <span>of a best friend here has got me believing you’re decent now. Don’t make me regret it, and no hexes will be thrown. Deal?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy held Ron’s gaze firmly to Harry’s surprise and shook his hand. “Deal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione huffed. “Can we just make that a general rule for the night? No maiming, period?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ginny leaned back, crossing her arms and eyeing Malfoy curiously. “I’m not shaking on that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry kicked her under the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She groaned. “Okay, fine, no maiming. I still think you’re a wanker,” she added at Malfoy’s direction, “but pay for my drinks tonight and maybe we can be civil.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy snorted, biting back a smile that he looked like he was confused by. “Fair enough.”</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>When Harry checked his watch and saw that it was 10, he noted that Malfoy didn’t leave after a couple of hours like he said he would.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he listened to Ginny complain about having to get up early the next morning, he could see Ron from the corner of his eye silently offering a coaster to Malfoy, who was absentmindedly wiping at the wet spot on the table. He didn’t know why he felt more at ease at the tiny gesture, but it was something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll be fine tomorrow, Ginny,” Luna assured. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ginny, I love you,” Ron said before Ginny could reply, “but you’re literally a Quidditch star, so I can’t take any of your work complaints seriously.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, shut up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to second Ron on this one, Gin,” Neville mumbled in between sips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She let out an exaggerated scoff. “Traitor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neville smiled apologetically. “If I have to deal with the Quidditch players in my class pestering me with questions about you all year, I can’t feel sorry for you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ginny sighed. “Okay, fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is it?” Malfoy asked. “Being a professor when you’re just a few years older than your oldest students, I mean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron raised his eyebrows at him. “What, is Draco Malfoy scared of a bunch of teenagers?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy shrugged. “I was the worst teenager there was. I know I </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> be scared of them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry grinned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking like he was holding back a chuckle to not give Malfoy the satisfaction of making him laugh, Ron just mumbled a “good point” and took a gulp of his beer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyway…” Malfoy veered his attention back to Neville.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine, really,” Neville said. “I reckoned it would be weird, and it was at first. But a four-year age gap makes a ton of difference when they’re still practically kids and we aren’t. It was hard to see that at first for some reason.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, that makes sense,” Hermione offered. “I mean...We all had to grow up so fast that we never realized we weren’t adults at 17. None of us really know what it’s really like to be a regular 17-year-old, huh? With the war and all...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry could feel Malfoy shift uncomfortably next to him. Unsure if it was because Harry was starting to get a little tipsy, but he was feeling bold enough to place a comforting hand on Malfoy’s thigh underneath the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy stiffened, and Harry was about to pull his hand back and stammer out an apology. But Malfoy relaxed almost immediately after and shot him a small smile. Harry’s heart started to speed up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even now, it’s still all moving quite fast, isn’t it? Doesn’t feel like four years,” Harry found himself saying as he looked at all their faces, a vivid memory of the six of them in a huddle in the Room of Requirement before the Battle of Hogwarts forming in his head. He focused on the way the fabric of Malfoy’s trousers felt against his palm. He was the only tangible proof in this table that time had passed. The war is over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ginny groaned. “Okay, </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I get enough of this sentimental ‘time is moving too fast and you’re all growing up too soon’ from mum. She thinks that we’re all two minutes away from getting married and having babies. I can’t even remember to do my bloody groceries most weeks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All of them laughed. Except for Ron and Hermione who were looking at each other, expressions of guilty amusement on their faces.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry squinted at them. “What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron widened his eyes at Hermione, who looked like she was about to answer Harry. “We said not tonight, ‘Mione.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but...</span>
  <em>
    <span>Come on. </span>
  </em>
  <span>We're all here</span>
  <span>,” she whispered. Or at least must have thought she was whispering. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone at the table was staring at them now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, Ginny gasped. “Oh my god.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry frowned. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione looked at Ron pleadingly. Ron sighed, a little smirk on his face. “Fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She squealed and kissed Ron on the cheek. Harry was about to ask what was happening for the third time when Hermione reached down her shirt to untuck her necklace from it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the chain hung a diamond ring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cheers and congratulations from the table were drowned in Harry’s ears as warmth burst in his chest and tears filled his eyes. Before he knew it, he was practically crawling over Malfoy and Luna to get out of their side of the booth and pull Ron and Hermione up, crushing them both in a hug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You two… I…” his voice cracked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron beamed then rested his cheek on top of Harry’s head as Hermione let out a weepy laugh and burrowed her face into Harry’s chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harry James Potter, you better restrain yourself before I start crying too,” she whined.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Both of you losers are already crying,” Ron pointed out despite his voice starting to shake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three of them laughed into the embrace. Harry stood there, in between his best friends, selfishly holding on tight to them and reveling in the elation he can feel throughout his body for a few more seconds despite hearing Ginny yelling, “Okay, it’s my turn to hug them, Potter!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After all the congratulations and hugs and tears, they had finally settled back to their usual banter. Only difference was that Hermione had transferred the ring onto her finger and she and Ron were being more openly affectionate than they usually were. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy had even bought the most expensive bottle of champagne the pub had (“If you think spoiling us with congratulatory alcohol is going to help you get on my good side,” Ron had said upon taking the first sip, “then you might be right.”)</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>They stayed like that for a while, shifting from talking to laughing over something that probably wasn’t that funny to Harry and Hermione scream-singing along to the loud Muggle music the pub was playing as the others watched them in amusement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry noticed that Malfoy was visibly more relaxed now, conversing easily with his friends, even landing jokes here and there. From time to time, Harry would nudge his foot with his under the table, an unspoken question of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Are you alright?</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Malfoy would smile, nudge him back. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He liked this silent language they had formed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the place got rowdier and they got drunker, many of the people in the pub started to stand up, dancing between tables they had pushed aside to get more space. It wasn’t long until Ginny managed to get all of them up on their feet to dance too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy and Neville almost immediately retreated to stand by the bar, probably still talking about being a professor at Hogwarts. When Harry tried to join them, Ginny stopped him and tried to yell over the music. Something about how he should dance with them for a little bit longer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he did. Awkwardly, but it wasn’t so bad. The alcohol helped. So did the fact that Ron, who usually stayed at the side with him during things like these, was on the floor dancing too, obviously too happy and in love to leave Hermione at the moment. Harry smiled as he swayed and jumped to the music with his friends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a while, the place started to feel too cramped. His energy was starting to wane, and he began to feel out of place in the crowd again. Harry tried to shake it off and take a few breaths, but he knew that all this - no matter how much fun he was having - was way too much for someone who was practically alone for a year. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He started to make his way to the exit, squeezing through drunken bodies and in between tables. Right before he could push the door open, a hand grabbed his wrist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry turned around to see Malfoy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright?” His brows were knitted, and there was worry in his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Between the music pounding too loud in his ears and Malfoy holding onto his wrist, it was hard to form a coherent thought. “Yeah. I am. I just need to get out for a bit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy looked at him up and down. “You’re not having an attack, are you? I can-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no,” Harry quickly reassured with a small smile. “It’s just too much right now. Need a breather.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, alright.” Malfoy’s shoulders relaxed, and Harry delighted in how much concern he had for him. The fact that he even noticed Harry leaving despite being on the other end of a crowded room made Harry want to entertain the idea that Malfoy had been watching him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll just be a few minutes.”</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>It was a cold night, but Harry wasn’t in the mood to squeeze past all those people again just to get his coat. He tucked his hands in his armpits and leaned against the wall of the pub, watching people - most drunk - walk by. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry stayed like that for a few moments, enjoying the quiet, but it wasn’t long before he felt like he’d freeze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, when the pub door opened, it was Ron with Harry’s coat in hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Ron said, holding up the coat. “Mal- ugh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Draco </span>
  </em>
  <span>- said you were out here. Forgot this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Merlin, you are my favorite person right now,” Harry said, putting on the coat. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron leaned against the wall next to him. “Are you implying there are times that I’m not your favorite person? You promised you loved me and ‘Mione equally!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry chuckled. “I do, but Teddy beats you both, I’m afraid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron lets out a fake gasp. “Unacceptable. He’s four. Barely has a personality!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Laughing, Harry elbowed him in the ribs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay, though?” Ron asked, the teasing tone of his voice gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry nodded. “Yeah. It’s just been a while since I’ve been around so many people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it’s too much, we won’t mind if you leave early, you know. Already means a lot that you’re here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry shook his head. “No, no, don’t be ridiculous. I promised I’d be here. Besides, I really am having fun. Just needed a quick break.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Need me to leave you alone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah. Stay,” Harry said, bumping their shoulders lightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stayed like that for a while, standing next to each other in comfortable silence and listening to the sounds of the city around them and the music from inside the pub. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Ron started, an edge of caution to his voice, “you and Ginny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that supposed to be a question?” Harry asked, fully knowing it was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You two seem...friendly again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wasn’t that the point?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what I mean,” Ron deadpanned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry sighed. “We just missed each other, mate. Nothing’s happening. I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron sighed. “Well, I don’t want her to think…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s over me, Ron. I’m not getting her hopes up or anything. We’re just going to be friends again. We made that clear before we even got to order dinner last night,” Harry assured. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded slowly. “Okay...I’m sorry, I just-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t want me hurting her again, I get it,” Harry supplied. “Don’t worry, I know how much of an arse I was. Besides, even if I wasn’t over her, I wouldn’t try anything. I don’t want to hurt her again either, mate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I know. I guess I just...needed to hear you say that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few beats of silence pass, and Harry thinks that’s the end of that until-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you are, right?” Ron asked. “Over her, that is. Because if you aren’t, that doesn’t mean you have to keep it to yourself or anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The earnestness in his voice reminded Harry of how much he loved Ron and all his small but eager ways of showing someone he cares. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m over her. Really.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry let out an amused huff. “Oh, trust me. I am. Wish I wasn’t, though, if that meant I didn’t have to spend all my bloody time pining for-” He tensed, cutting himself off, wide-eyed. He was definitely tipsier than he thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t even have time to wish Ron hadn’t heard that. His best friend was already in front of him, a smirk on his face, and holding him by the shoulders. “What was that, Harry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry shut his eyes tight as if that would make Ron go away. “Nothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron barked out a laugh. “There’s no way you’re getting out of this one, mate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry peeked out of one eye. “You’re not going to like the answer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Letting go of Harry, Ron shook his head. “Ah, come on! Who is she?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry considered making up a story about meeting a girl at the bookshop for a second there. But he didn’t. He isn’t quite sure why. Maybe the alcohol was just giving him that bit of courage he needed to be honest with his best friend about something that was quickly becoming a rather huge part of his life. “It’s not a she.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron’s beaming face slackened. He stared at Harry for a few seconds before taking a deep breath. “Oh.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry sucked in a breath. “Yeah.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron stepped back, crossing his arms and looking at him apologetically. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry shrugged. “Neither did I.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron searched Harry’s face for a moment before lunging forward and yanking him into an embrace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The force was a bit too much, Harry letting out a small </span>
  <em>
    <span>oof </span>
  </em>
  <span>as their chests collided too hard before he could see the hug coming, but he didn’t mind. He hugged his best friend back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for telling me,” Ron mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I can’t keep things from you for that long,” Harry said, huffing in relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long have you known?” Ron asked as he let Harry go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not that long, to be honest. A couple weeks, maybe. If that,” Harry said, realizing how ridiculous it was that it’s only been that long. At this point, he felt like he’d been pining for Malfoy for months now. Or maybe he has been and just never noticed until recently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about Ginny?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I really did love her. None of it was an act or anything,” Harry assured. “It just so happens that...I fancy blokes too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron was looking at him with a slightly bothered expression. “And you thought I’d have a problem with that? You know I don’t care about that stuff, mate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean? Of course I know that. I wouldn’t have told you otherwise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said I wasn’t going to like the answer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” In all the ease he felt at Ron’s expected acceptance, for a minute there, he had forgotten about the real reason he’d been dreading telling him. “I didn’t mean the whole not being straight thing. I meant you weren’t going to like...the </span>
  <em>
    <span>who</span>
  </em>
  <span> of it all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron’s bewildered expression didn’t last long before his face dropped. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry scrunched up his face and nodded slowly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Him?!” Ron shook his head. “You’re joking, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, I wish I were,” Harry muttered, his heart beating wildly in his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just so we’re crystal clear. We’re talking about Malfoy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hearing Ron say it out loud was surreal. “Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Draco Malfoy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Draco Malfoy, the man who is in that pub right now,” Ron added, pointing at the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do we know other Draco Malfoys?” Harry attempted to joke, but the stupor on Ron’s face was not budging. “Please tell me you don’t hate me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron’s expression softened at that. “Of course I don’t. It’s just...a lot to take in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean...He actually does seem </span>
  <em>
    <span>decent</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he offered, though he said the last word like it pained him to do so. “...I need to sit down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry was about to suggest that they sit at the bus stop across the busy street when Ron just plopped down on the ground, sitting cross-legged against the wall. He chuckled in amusement before joining him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still don’t completely trust him,” Ron said. “The thing is... Logically? I don’t think trusting him is a bad idea anymore. Just these few hours with him and knowing all the work he’s done to be better tell me that. But I just...don’t. Not right now, at least.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s fair,” Harry replied. “I know that no one owes him trust. Or forgiveness. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He</span>
  </em>
  <span> knows that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But...I think I’ll get there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry turned to him. “Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron pressed his lips into a begrudging, yet somehow still sincere, smile. “Yeah.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry grinned, and the two of them returned to just staying there in silence, watching cars pass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few minutes, Ron groaned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“First my sister and now Draco Malfoy. When you choose people to fancy do you just think ‘Hmm, which available person will cause Ron to break into stress hives the most?’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Maybe I’ll go for Charlie next. Is he still with that Bulgarian bloke?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron squinted at him. “You say that like it’s a joke, but now I’m realizing how much it makes sense that you were always staring at him and Bill when we were teenagers.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry snorted, amused at how similar his and Ron’s thought processes were sometimes. “That’s literally one of the first things I thought when I realized I liked blokes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Laughing, Ron punched him lightly on the arm. “I swear, Harry, if you date another one of my siblings…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, don’t worry. I’m not planning to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The laughter between them died down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So. </span>
  <span>Do you reckon he…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite Ron trailing off, Harry got the gist. “I hope he does. But I don’t know, I was never great at knowing whether people fancy me or not…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ron tilted his head, looking like he wanted to dispute that to encourage Harry. “Well, I mean...Okay, yeah, you’re pretty rubbish at it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, sod off,” Harry said, chuckling. He got to his feet and offered Ron a hand. “Come on, let’s head inside. They’re probably wondering where we’ve gone off to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but one more thing,” Ron said as he took Harry’s hand and pushed himself off the pavement. “I didn’t just come out here to give you your coat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry furrowed his brows. “Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know it’s daft of me to still ask...I mean, it’s a given with us at this point.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it, Ron?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll be my best man, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry’s face broke into a smile, his eyes starting to sting again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, come on, enough tears for the night, please!” Ron complained, but he was beaming. “That’s a yes, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course it’s a yes, you idiot.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<span>When they went back in, Harry found himself wondering how long exactly they were gone. His friends - save for Hermione, who was the only one who could drive in their group - were red in the face and screaming louder as they danced. They had even managed to pull Neville and Malfoy into their circle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry murmured a quick excuse to Ron as he slipped away to the bar, determined to get a bit drunker. Telling Ron had gone better than he thought but still drained him too much to be up for dancing again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he waited for the bartender - who was busy talking to a group that seemed to be enumerating a long list of orders - to bring him the shots he had asked for, the brunette man standing next to him smiled. “Hi.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, er. Hi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve never seen you here before,” he said, biting down on his lip and leaning against the bar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah. Yeah?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your eyes…” he started, a smirk growing.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Here we go</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Harry thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...They’re green...Your eyes are so </span>
  <em>
    <span>interesting</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Do you get that a lot?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His lips tightened into a forced smile as he nodded curtly. He was about to turn around and just go steal whatever drink Ginny was holding in her hand instead, but he felt a hand on his back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked up to see Malfoy, who was glaring at the bloke. “Is there a problem?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a swoop in Harry’s stomach as he heard the bite in Malfoy’s voice. His jaw was clenched and one eyebrow was cocked in a challenge. He tried not to think too hard about how hot he looked like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The brunette scoffed and held up his hands in a backing off motion before leaving. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy faced Harry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Haven’t seen you like that in a while. Nice to not be on the receiving side of it,” Harry said, grinning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy, his face softening again to the version that Harry now knew, smiled. “Just wanted to see if you needed rescuing from yet another person hitting on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry frowned. “He wasn’t hitting on me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy snorted. “I was right. You really are oblivious, aren’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s that supposed to mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nevermind,” he mumbled, waving his hand dismissively. “But, Merlin, ‘your eyes are so interesting’? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Who </span>
  </em>
  <span>says that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry shrugged. “Literally every other stranger I talk to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy’s eyes narrowed. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what to tell you, Malfoy, white people see a brown person with light eyes and will feel the need to mention it within the first 10 seconds of meeting me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy raised his eyebrows. “Oh. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Huh.</span>
  </em>
  <span> So, when you said everyone greeted you with ‘you have your mother’s eyes’ all those years...” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yup</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Harry said, making a popping noise at the end of the word for emphasis. “I always wondered why everyone went on about me having her eyes when that’s just how genetics worked. Turns out, translation: ‘You’re Indian like your dad, but you have green eyes. How </span>
  <em>
    <span>fascinating,’</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he said, chuckling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Merlin, I’m sorry about that...For what it’s worth, though, I still think he was flirting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Well, thanks for the rescue either way. He wasn’t exactly my type. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed. “No shit, Potter. He’s a git...And, well, a bloke.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry didn’t know what it was - probably the combination of alcohol and the way that Malfoy said it so matter-of-factly that triggered the part of him that still liked to fight him and prove him wrong - but he shook his head and asked, “Why would you assume that him being a bloke would be a dealbreaker?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He regretted it as soon as he said it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry watched the smirk fall from Malfoy’s face, the change was slow-motion in his head as he started to panic. He thought to himself if it’s possible to get dumber as you age, because that is definitely what must be happening to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What </span>
  </em>
  <span>does </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, right as Malfoy asked, there was a thud and murmur from the bartender as she set the shots down in front of Harry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned away from the addled look on Malfoy’s face, deciding to pretend he hadn’t heard him because of the music, before downing both shots without pausing in between. Harry grimaced at the taste, but suddenly the buzz that’s been tame and subtle the whole night felt like a new kind of alive as he felt the heat in his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without looking him in the eye, he just muttered a quick, “Come on, let’s join the others,” and grabbed Malfoy by the elbow. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Those shots had not been a good idea, Harry thought to himself as he opened his eyes. Same went for the ones Ginny made them drink afterwards while they danced. And the ones they had taken during last call despite Hermione warning them not to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“M-Mione?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione looked at him in the rearview mirror as she stopped at the traffic light and held the hand of a fast-asleep Ron in the passenger’s seat. “Well, at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> of you is conscious. I just dropped the others off at Luna’s flat. Do you know where Draco lives?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Draco? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry repeated in his head, taking a few seconds to realize he hadn’t asked it out loud as he focused all his energy on remaining upright as the car started to move again. When he looked down on his lap, he found Malfoy passed out, his head pressed against Harry’s stomach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before realizing what he was doing, he lifted his hand and brushed away the strands of Malfoy’s hair that fell to his eyes. His lashes were really long, Harry thought to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harry,” Hermione said, cutting through his thoughts.  “Can you stop pining for two seconds? Where does he live?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry thought back to all the times he was with him. It was always in the bookshop, his place, or Andromeda’s. He realized that he didn’t even know which part of London Malfoy lived in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...I’m not sure.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Christ,” Hermione muttered. “Can you wake him and ask him, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stared out the window. The raindrops on the other side of the glass made the lights of the city blurry, orbs of warm yellows and oranges fading together. It was pretty. The city could be pretty, sometimes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The streets became more familiar even to an intoxicated Harry as they drew closer to Islington. He was hyperaware of the way his body longed for his bed. It had been a while since the last time he was out this late and this drunk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Harry.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, he had fun. He had almost forgotten the kind of warmth nights like these promised. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m forcing all of you to learn how to drive, I swear to god,” Hermione muttered as she stopped the car, the sudden halt taking Harry out of his thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She undid her seatbelt and turned around, reaching over to grab Malfoy by the arm to shake him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be careful!” Harry yelped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Draco. Draco, wake up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She let go as Malfoy started to stir.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slowly opened his eyes and pushed himself off Harry’s lap. “Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s your address?” Hermione asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Address?” Malfoy rubbed his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, where do you live?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I live...Er... I live in…” He trailed off and turned to Harry, letting out a snicker. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry chuckled too, not sure why. Before he knew it, they lost it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the back of his head, he was aware that dissolving into a fit of giggles at the back of Hermione’s car while she glared at them was going to earn him a lecture tomorrow morning, but as Malfoy clutched his arm, drowning in confused laughter together, he struggled to stop. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>He wasn’t quite sure why Malfoy was still with him as he closed the front door of Grimmauld Place behind him. His memory was foggy. Hermione had probably just given up on trying to get an answer from one of them and dropped both of them off at his place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry watched as Malfoy shrugged off his coat and let it drop to the floor, immediately going up the stairs like no part of this confused him. He smiled to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They wobbled up the many flights mostly in silence, only stopping to offer a steadying arm when the other stumbled a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they climbed up to the fourth floor, Harry mumbled, “You’re okay with staying in Teddy’s room, right? The guest rooms are sort of a mess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy blinked a few times. “Teddy’s is okay,” he said, yawning out the last word. “M’tired.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At this point, it made Harry dizzy to even nod. “Mhmm. Me too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he was. Completely exhausted at that. So, even as he heard a yell followed by a loud </span>
  <em>
    <span>thump</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it took him a few moments to realize Malfoy had tripped on the last step, falling on his face on the fourth floor’s landing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry snorted, fully prepared to make fun of him, but whatever joke he was planning to make died in his throat as Malfoy turned over, sporting a busted lip and bleeding nose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jerked into alertness, he immediately fell to his knees next to him. “Oh, fuck. Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy waved dismissively even as he flinched at the pain. “It’s nothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaned over, grabbing Malfoy by the shoulders and the realization of what he had to do dawning on him. “Well. Nothing serious, at least...I know how to heal stuff like this, I just need your-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He cut himself off as he remembered Malfoy had left his wand in his coat, four flights down. Harry tried to stand up, but his head started pounding in protest and his legs gave way almost immediately. He considered crawling to his room, but it wasn’t like he could remember where he had stored away his wand at this state.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which only left him with...Well…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked at Malfoy again, at the redness forming around his nose - </span>
  <em>
    <span>was it swelling? Can it swell this soon?</span>
  </em>
  <span> - that was sure to become a nasty purple bruise in a couple of days if he didn’t do anything, and slowly brought his hands to Malfoy’s face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Potter, what are y-you-” his words stuttered as Harry gently touched his nose, murmuring an incantation as he traced the bridge of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry’s fingers trembled as he felt the warmth in his hands. It was probably just the unfamiliarity of it. Or just the alcohol, for that matter. But he could feel something surge down his arms and to his fingertips as if his magic was coming from somewhere physical, somewhere tangible. As if it was this corporeal thing desperately rushing from wherever Harry had locked it away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bleeding stopped, the forming bruise disappearing with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha-” Malfoy frantically looked left and right, as if to check if Harry did have a wand and he just couldn’t see it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay still.” Harry steadied Malfoy’s head with both hands on either side of his face, his thumb reaching to trace the outline of Malfoy’s lips as he whispered another spell. The cut disappeared before his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry took a shaky breath before meeting Malfoy’s eyes. “That should do it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy just stared at him, his mouth slightly open and his lower lip still caught against Harry’s thumb.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pull Harry could feel in his chest was starting to feel dangerous as he watched the way Malfoy blinked up at him in awe. As Harry held his face in his hands, he relished the way his fingers curved against the jut of Malfoy’s cheekbones.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was far too drunk and far too gone in this sharp longing. Harry knew that if he didn’t let go soon, he’d do something stupid.  But he couldn’t. Malfoy’s grey eyes were way too disarming and skin too soft and mouth too pink for his own good. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I hate wanting you this bad,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he wanted to say.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Can you tell? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Potter…” Malfoy’s eyes were searching Harry’s like a question. One Harry was tempted to answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know how sometimes you think that what you’re feeling is manageable? So, you let yourself sit in it thinking it isn’t going to hurt?” The words tumbled out of Harry’s mouth. A voice in his head was begging himself to shut up, but any traces of common sense left in his brain all just sounded like static at this point. “But before you know it, it escalates so much that you can’t find a safe way down anymore?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry’s eyes flicker to Malfoy’s lips. Just for a couple seconds. But when he looks back, he could tell Malfoy had noticed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy’s eyes were wide. “What...What are you trying to say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…” Harry started to say, his heart thudding mercilessly in his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, a fizzing sensation started to gather in his palms, jolting him back to his senses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit,” Harry murmured, letting go of Malfoy and backing away. He closed his fists so tight that his nails dug into his skin before he could lose control of his magic, suddenly remembering why he never did this drunk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few deep breaths, the sensation in his palms subsided and he glanced at Malfoy, who was looking at him with an expression that Harry couldn’t read. He couldn’t tell if the look on Malfoy’s face was still shock from the magic or from everything Harry was trying to tell him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Panic started to bubble in Harry’s gut, the gravity of everything he had just laid out in front of Malfoy starting to sink in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Potter-” Malfoy started, leaning forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, I’ll see you in the morning, then?” he interrupted, determined to cut him off before he had to listen to Malfoy voice out what Harry was sure to be a rejection. Not now. Harry didn’t have it in him to hear it now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pushed himself off the floor, his legs finally cooperating,  and extended a hand to Malfoy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh...Yeah, yeah,” Malfoy mumbled as he took Harry’s hand and pulled himself up, stumbling a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry immediately let go, his hand on his bedroom door as soon as Malfoy looked like he could stand properly on his own. “Goodnight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy still looked stunned as he nodded slowly, backing away towards the direction of Teddy’s room. “Right. Goodnight.” </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Harry’s first thought when he woke up hit him like a freight train: </span>
  <em>
    <span>If Malfoy didn’t know before, he definitely knew now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit!” he yelled, pacing back and forth in his room, the clawing panic filling every part of his exhausted body. “Shit shit shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry groaned, sitting on the floor against his bed. He briefly considered just hiding in his room until Malfoy left, but his migraine was getting worse and his stomach was turning and his throat and mouth felt like they were stuffed with cotton. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll go make us breakfast, pretend I don’t remember anything, and go from there. It’s fine. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He got up to make his way out of the room, but as his eye caught the dresser next to the door, he stopped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry stared at the bottom drawer he now remembered he stored his wand in, suddenly feeling too aware of how his hands feel. He definitely hadn’t gone out last night thinking it was going to end with him using magic for the first time in a year. Much less wandless magic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And if he could do that drunk and far from an emotionally stable state, what was stopping him from taking that wand out and relearning how to love magic? How to weave it back into his life as he had once done before without getting swallowed up by memories of the war?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sighing, he opened the door and decided to leave it for now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe this crisis can wait until he’s dealt with his other crisis. The one that took shape in a blonde boy sleeping in a room down the hall. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>-yes im ignoring the movies where just abt everyone seems to know wandless magic. i like the idea of it being this extremely difficult thing that takes years to master and that not a lot of people can do. but more on that next chapter!<br/>-did harry rly need to caress draco's face tenderly like that? no that's not how wandless magic works. he's just gay and drunk<br/>-for those asking, i update once a month! i used to update more frequently but i decided that writing longer chapters at a time worked better for me so yeah! (but i dont mind the ppl messaging me on tumblr to ask abt updates. i need the pressure lmao)<br/>-u can find me at @	ginnywcasleys (changed my url) on tumblr! ur welcome to talk to me abt the fic, bother me until i update, etc etc<br/>-thank you so much for the kudos and comments. they motivate to write even when all i want to is just vividly imagine scenes i wanna write lmao</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. was it just me? or did you linger for too long?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Harry rediscovers his love for magic. Draco rediscovers his fear of accepting things he's always wanted. They both get help about it.</p>
<p>or </p>
<p>harry and draco keep accidentally flirting with each other and still have the audacity to be surprised abt the events that follow</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>im sorry this is almost like week late! partly bc i was busy but also bc this chapter got a lot longer than i intended lmao.<br/>tw: panic attacks, mentions of abuse, mentions of homophobia </p>
<p>anyway here's 12k words of ur favorite magical boys healing and being in love &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Draco groaned, hands clutching at his head. He should not have drunk those last few shots. Or the ones before those, for that matter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he sat up, he felt something flip and tighten in his stomach as his head pounded relentlessly. Certain that he was going to throw up if he tried to move, he laid back down and shut his eyes tight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had the ingredients around here for a potion that might help. Most of them were probably in his mother’s study, though. If he could only get up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Opening his eyes again, he turned his head as slowly as he could to the side to check his bedside clock for the time. But it wasn’t there. Instead, on the nightstand, was a lamp shaped like a Snitch and a coloring book. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes widened as the realization he was in Teddy’s room and the memories of what happened before he passed out here settled in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Draco stayed in bed for half an hour until he could finally get up without feeling like he was going to vomit. After showering in Teddy’s bathroom, he put on the clothes that were neatly folded on a chair by the bed. It was a pair of grey slacks and a dark blue button-up shirt. A note left on top of it read </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hope these are okay. They’re the most Malfoy-esque clothes I own. And no, I don’t have any black turtlenecks. </span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He chuckled, something bubbling in his chest and the events of the night before crystal clear in his head now that he had fully woken up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco thought back to the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why would you assume that him being a bloke would be a dealbreaker?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And all that talk about feelings getting out of hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And the way Potter dragged his thumb against his lip, keeping it there and looking at Draco in awe long after his wounds had healed. Healed with </span>
  <em>
    <span>magic </span>
  </em>
  <span>he hadn't used for a year.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco was insecure but he wasn’t an idiot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Potter had feelings for him too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He smiled to himself, not letting the anxiety that had been plaguing him the past week ruin this. There were many reasons why this was a bad thing. Reasons why he didn’t pay attention to the subtler - but still very present - signs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But as the giddiness stirring in him started to overtake the shock, he couldn’t bring himself to be careful right now. All he could think of was the way Potter’s fingers felt against his mouth and that look he gave Draco before pulling away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He opened the door and went down the stairs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he arrived at the kitchen, he leaned against the frame of the entryway and watched Potter for a few moments before speaking. “Smells brilliant.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Potter turned around abruptly, eyes wide. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> remembered last night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re up. Er...Thanks,” Potter stammered out before turning back to the stove. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was only then that Draco took in the state of the room. There was flour scattered on the counters, used chopping boards, dirty bowls, and spice bottles were littered everywhere, and all the cupboard doors were open. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Potter kept his back to him. “Things may have gotten out of hand.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s one way to put it,” Draco said. “What time is it even?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Half-past two,” he replied, glancing over his shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was knocked out for that long?” Draco rubbed at his temples. Paying attention to them made him realize how much his head was still throbbing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We just got back late, I reckon. Don’t know how I woke up before noon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh. Yeah.” Draco stared at Potter’s back. Were they not going to talk about it?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should drink some water,” Potter murmured, motioning his head to the kitchen table where a pitcher sat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. Yeah. Thanks.” Draco poured himself a glass, suddenly aware of how his throat felt like sandpaper. “You’re stress cooking. What’s wrong?” he asked, before gulping his drink down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco had a few good guesses. But he still wanted to ask. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not sure what you’re talking about, mate.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco put his glass down a bit too loudly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mate?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Really? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Okay, so they </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> nothing more than friends. But Potter’s never called him that before. And to do so after whatever that was last night just made the awkwardness in Potter’s voice as he said more obvious.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Draco could let that go. For now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The kitchen looks exactly like Andromeda’s whenever she’s stressed out. So…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Leave it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco flinched. “Alright then</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Potter turned around slowly, his face scrunched up. “Sorry. I just...It’s the hangover.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And nothing to do with the fact you used magic last night for the first time in a year?” Draco asked, tired of tiptoeing around it. He was already tiptoeing around so much more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Potter tensed up. “It’s nothing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And </span>
  <em>
    <span>wandless </span>
  </em>
  <span>magic, at that? Where did you even learn how to do that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Turning his attention back to his cooking, Potter made a noncommittal noise. “A lot of my nightmares after the war were about breaking my wand again... Never felt more powerless than when I didn’t have it on the run...So, I sort of... Taught myself?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Wow.” He always forgot how powerful Potter was. Which was daft, considering he literally saved the world. On multiple occasions. It was just hard to see him as that untouchable hero the more Draco got to know him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Here he was, in a kitchen with the savior of the wizarding world. And, somehow, it’s the same person who could talk about weird Muggle films for an hour straight if you didn’t interrupt him and couldn’t go one day without accidentally knocking something over.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco couldn’t get enough of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead of replying, Draco walked over to him, settling next to him as he leaned against the counter. He looked at Potter pointedly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span><em>?</em>” Potter repeated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s no way you don’t know how impressive that is.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>And attractive</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Draco wanted to add. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Potter shrugged. “Practiced for years. I mean, the stuff I learned in Auror training helped. I can’t do that much, anyway. Just minor healing charms, basic spells, and all that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Still,” Draco said, reaching out and touching Potter on the arm briefly. He relished a little in watching him freeze and blush, his own heartbeat picking up in his chest. “You should be proud. That you learned how to do it in the first place </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> that you managed to do it after an entire year of being too scared to. You’re- That’s amazing.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Potter kept his eyes on whatever he was cooking but looked grateful anyway. “Thanks, Malfoy.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sounds like professor material to me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Potter rolled his eyes. “Please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You said that was the main reason you were hesitating,” Draco pointed out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, yes, but I </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> am scared of using magic,” Potter said, his face dropping a little. “And what if that was just a fluke?” he added, now gesturing with the wooden spoon in his hand. “I was wasted. Don’t even know if I can bring myself to do it again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should give yourself more credit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s all just too much right now. And I just don’t want to bring anything up with McGonagall until I’m sure I can follow through this time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I get it...Well, thank you for healing me anyway.” Draco figured that it was best to let it go right now as he saw how worried Potter looked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Finally got to return the favor.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hah. I suppose.” Draco fiddled with a bottle of coriander powder. “So...What else do you remember?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing,” Potter answered. Too quickly, Draco noted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right...Are you sure?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Potter nodded, turning away from him again to grab a bowl of curd. He added it in slowly before putting it aside. As Potter stirred in silence, obviously avoiding eye contact, Draco knew he had to press on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“After you healed me-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you grab that for me?” Potter interrupted, pointing to the cup of water by Draco. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco’s heart sank a little as he handed it to him and watched him pour it into the pan that held thick, simmering orange liquid. If Potter wasn’t being so transparent, Draco would be doubting if he really did remember anything. But he obviously did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, he decided to leave it. At least for now. They had a long night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you making anyway?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Which one? I’ve already cooked about three other things that I’ve stored away,” he mumbled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco frowned at him, the messy kitchen making more sense now. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?</span>
  </em>
  <span> How early did you get up?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Potter waved his hand dismissively. “It’s fine. But anyway, this one is gatte ki sabji. Recipe card’s over there if you want to see.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He followed Potter’s gaze to see it lying next to an open tin box of more recipe cards. Draco scanned it. “These are your dad’s?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mhmm,” he said, still stirring. “I may have spiralled into a really weird, depressing train of thought this morning, so...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” Draco asked, unsure of the connection to the mess he made in the kitchen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Potter sighed. “Well, I was getting in my head about the magic. Then, I started wondering if my parents knew wandless magic. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Then</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I realized that was stupid, because if they did, then they wouldn’t be...Well, you know. They’d still be here…” he trailed off, before turning to Draco. “Can you keep stirring this while I cut the gatte up?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco looked at him, concerned, as he took the spoon. “Yeah, sure.” As he did what he was instructed to do, he watched Potter chop away on the chopping board. “Are you okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Potter took a deep breath, stopped cutting, then said, “Yeah,” like he was assessing himself before deciding on an answer. “Thanks to the - what did you call it? - stress cooking. Makes me feel closer to him. And to my mum, even. That’s her handwriting in blue. He must’ve taught her.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Draco stirred, he glanced at the card again, noticing little arrows in blue ink linking a few terms to English translations in the border. “Have you always had these?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah, they were in the box of my parent’s stuff that Remus only found a few days after Teddy was born,” he said as he transferred the gatte into the pan and took over the stirring from Draco. “He moved around a lot throughout the years, so a lot of my parents’ things that he managed to salvage all those years ago got mixed up in his own. Andromeda gave it to me the first time I met Teddy...Second time I cried that day,” he added with an amused huff.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s good. You deserve to learn as much as you can about them at the very least,” Draco offered, nudging Potter’s foot with his. He wasn’t really sure how to physically comfort him without disrupting his cooking. Or making him feel like Draco was still pressing on about what they were talking about earlier. Potter obviously needed to talk some things out, but romantic feelings were not one of them right now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco didn’t mind. He liked listening to him, learning about him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Potter smiled as he poured in a small bowl containing a mix of more spices. “Yeah. Especially with my dad. Don’t really know anything about his culture ‘cause my aunt and uncle were racist arseholes. I mean, thanks to Remus, I now have some pictures of my grandparents and letters they wrote to my dad too. But cooking this stuff is the closest I can get to actually experiencing it myself. For now, at least.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well,” Draco said carefully, “it’s something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, it is…” he said, throwing in coriander leaves and covering it with the lid. “And now,” he said, turning to Draco with a smirk, “we just let that simmer, and while we wait you can pour yourself a glass of milk or something because I know you can’t handle spice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco scoffed. “Oh, sod off.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You cried when I put chilli oil on your food that one time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>cry</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Draco protested, feeling the corners of his mouth tug up at the sight of Potter looking more at ease. “I just teared up a little.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Potter snickered, shaking his head. “Whatever you say, white boy.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As they ate, with all the words Potter spoke the night before echoing in his head, Draco noticed everything. Everything he had been missing. All the hints he had refused to acknowledge. </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Like the way each time he looked up from his plate, Potter was already looking at him. And the way Potter flexed his hand the slightest bit each time their fingers brushed against each other. Or the way Draco had to repeat what he was saying a few times because Potter would zone out, just staring back at him and smiling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks for doing the dishes,” Potter said after they ate as Draco approached the sink.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course. Any plans for the day?” he asked, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows and undoing the first couple of buttons of the shirt he was wearing as he always did before washing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s only when Potter stilled, stuttering out his reply about picking Teddy up as his gaze visibly dropped to Draco’s exposed collarbone, that Draco could admit to himself that he also did it to check for a reaction. To revel in what he’d been ignoring. Even if Potter wasn’t ready to admit yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco smirked; his own heart hammering. “You alright there?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Potter stood up too abruptly. “Yes. I just...I need to...Go get ready. For, you know. Teddy,” he stammered before leaving the kitchen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco laughed to himself as he turned the sink on, letting himself bask in the feeling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it didn’t last long. Left alone in the kitchen with only the sound of running water and plates clinking together disrupting the silence, the worries he’d been repressing all week started to resurface.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before last night, all he’d been thinking about was his father. And the ruin he left Draco as after he had sent that last letter, just the icing on top of years of damage it was preceded by.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everything was rushing back into his head now that he was sober and didn’t have Potter to distract him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn’t been able to date anyone since his dad threatened him. And even before that, the relationships he did have ended anyway. Either because they couldn’t deal with his baggage or because Draco let his father’s words get to him, causing him to spiral for a few weeks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco wanted to think that it wasn’t the same. That he was doing better now. But the past few days loomed over him, making him accept that maybe he was wrong. Maybe things wouldn’t be different with Potter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turned off the faucet and put the pot he was washing down, cringing at the sudden realization that it </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> be different. But not for the reason he wanted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco has never fallen this hard. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He did fancy all the men he dated. And he had fun with them. But never in a way that has pried Draco so open and vulnerable, constantly craving the presence of one person. Never in a way that had him discovering new little bubbles of safety and comfort and </span>
  <em>
    <span>acceptance</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the world, bubbles shaped like a tiny bookshop after Potter closed up or an ancestral house now full of warmth and late-night conversations. Never like </span>
  <em>
    <span>this. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which meant that, if Draco lets himself have this, it would sting more when it inevitably fell into pieces. He</span>
  <em>
    <span> can’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>lose him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Great,” he murmured as he resumed washing, as he made a silent resolution to just leave it alone. Potter didn’t want to talk about it anyway, and that’s honestly for the better. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>By the time Astoria burst through the door of his bedroom, Draco had already calmed down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, mostly. His breathing wasn’t as shaky nor did it feel like it hurt anymore. And the palpitations were gone. But his thoughts were still working overtime, loud and vivid. As if they were malicious voices being whispered directly into his ear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t be fooled. You’re always going to be sad and angry and broken. You’ve always known that. Why are you acting like this is news? There’s no -</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry I’m late. I came as soon as I got your letter,” Astoria said, her voice easing him into full awareness as she sat next to him on his bed and pulled him into a hug. “You should’ve used the Floo.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wasn’t thinking,” Draco admitted, hugging her back weakly. It had been a while since they had done this. This routine of him asking her to come over whenever he was like this. He’d been doing so well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A couple of hours ago, a nightmare had woken him up violently from a nap. But now that he could think a bit more clearly, he couldn’t even recall what exactly he had dreamt. There was nothing left to remember it by except for vague images of the Manor and more than a handful of self-deprecating thoughts in his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could take a guess.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You seem like you’ve calmed down a bit, at least,” Astoria muttered, pulling away and taking his hands. “It’s coming up, isn’t it? His death anniversary?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco nodded, the feel of her holding onto his hands and the knowledge that he didn’t need to explain himself to her comforting him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, bugger,” she said, pushing his hair away from his eyes and wiping at the tracks of tears on his cheeks. “Well. You have me. I’m here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He squeezed her arm, hoping it communicated how thankful he was. Draco could never bring himself to talk when he was like this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gonna go down to your kitchen and make us some tea to drink until you’re ready to talk. Is that alright?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco nodded, squeezing her hand. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They had their tea by Draco’s bay window. The sun was setting now, and they had been sitting there in silence for almost an hour when Draco looked to Astoria. “Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anytime,” Astoria said, setting their mugs aside. “Ready to talk?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, yeah, but...There’s not much to say, I suppose,” Draco said, looking out the glass. “My father was awful. I’m traumatized. You know the gist. You don’t need a recap.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And even though you’ve mostly worked through it, the anniversary coming up is messing with your head a little,” she supplied. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Messing with my head a lot,” Draco corrected. “Can’t focus on work. Mum’s barely been out of her room all week and won’t let me in. And I can’t even let myself- ...It’s a lot.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Draco…” she said, putting her hand on his knee. “But you’ve got to remember that you’ve gone through the hardest part last year. You’re better now. These are just...hiccups. They’re nothing compared to how much you’ve grown.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I...I know that,” Draco said. And he did. It just didn’t feel like it. “It’s just...a lot.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I understand.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco huffed, running his hands down his face in frustration. “Can we talk about something else?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Astoria nodded. “Yeah, yeah, of course... How was drinks with Harry and his friends?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He let his head hit the window with a soft thud. “Don’t get me started.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her face dropped. “Oh no. Was it bad?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No...It was really good actually.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Potter fancies me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Astoria’s eyes bulged out, clutching Draco’s knee into what felt a death grip. “WHAT?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco honestly didn’t mean to say it. And to say it so matter-of-factly, at that. As if he was so sure. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But that was the thing. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>feel sure, and he was starting to care less and less about how presumptuous that made him seem. Everything that clicked into place just made so much more sense than the constant loop of denial that’s been going on in his head these past couple of weeks. There was no going around it anymore no matter how much it terrified him. </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Draco echoed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She scoffed. “Blimey, Draco you can’t just say that and not explain. Did he tell you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not necessarily, but...It’s a long story.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Astoria’s stare was starting to look a bit crazed in anticipation. “So?! Come on, we’ve got time before dinner, haven’t we?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So Draco told her. Everything from the hand that stayed on his thigh most of the night and the comment Potter had made at the bar to everything he had done and whispered to Draco at Grimmauld Place. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the end of it, she was gaping at him incredulously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean,” he said, fiddling with a throw pillow, “I know I technically still can’t be sure, but…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Astoria laughed, shaking her head. “No, Draco, I think you’re allowed to make assumptions. I can’t say I can categorize ‘Grazing Your Mate’s Lip With Your Thumb in Awe As You Ramble On About How Scary These New Feelings Are’ and ‘Making It A Point to Tell Them That Being A Bloke Isn’t A Deal Breaker’ as platonic activities.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighed. “I’m not just being mad, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looked appalled that he was even asking that. “God, Draco, of course not. If you asked anyone else, they’d say the same thing. Even if they didn’t know about you two flirting for months now. So, what are you going to do?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “Nothing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Astoria frowned. “What do you mean ‘nothing’?! This is what you’ve been wanting and-” She cut herself off, studying him. “Wait, why aren’t you excited about this? Why do you look...disappointed that he wants you back?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just…” Draco said, standing up. “I just think we’re better off as friends. Less complicated that way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She narrowed her eyes. “You’re letting your dad get to you, aren’t you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco groaned. “Maybe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Draco</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Astoria, every time I’ve been in a relationship, all the baggage and fucking internalized homophobia come back to remind me they’re not done with me,” Draco said through his teeth. “Then I spiral! And push the person away! And it’s always a disaster. How is it going to be any different with him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Astoria stood, hands on hips. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that you’re actually friends with him unlike any of the blokes you’ve been with? Or that he already knows about your trauma and understands? Or that you’re now actually able to do what you’ve never done in your past relationships: talk about your bloody feelings.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco knew Astoria was making good points. But he couldn't be completely convinced. There were still too many variables that he couldn’t control. Too many traps he still couldn’t see. “I don’t know, Astoria…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, what? You’re just not going to talk to him about it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco shrugged. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wanted to. He wanted to just grab Potter by the face and ask him if he was right. But he couldn’t. Draco knew very well where this path led. He’d gone down it several times before with different blokes. He couldn’t with Potter, though. There wasn’t a guarantee he could recover from that.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>But Merlin did Potter make it difficult. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were eating takeaway in the bookshop on either side of the counter. Potter had put up the Closed sign on the window, and it was just them in this little bubble again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You realize all we ever do is eat, watch movies on your sofa, and argue about who’s changing Teddy’s nappies?” Draco said as exasperated as he could make himself sound as if it hasn’t been the best few months of his life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Potter, concentrated on his food, snickered. “What, Malfoy, want me to take you out on a date?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco choked on the bite of sandwich he was chewing almost immediately, coughing violently and thumping at his chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stared at Potter, whose eyes were wide like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. “I- I was joking, Malfoy. Jesus,” he said, looking away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The faux nonchalance was so evident that Draco could almost scream. Instead, he opted for something worse. “Why? Am I not your type?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up,” he muttered, shoving Draco by the shoulder and laughing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It has been like this for a few days now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ever since that night he slept over, Potter’s gotten more careless. As if his filter had just deteriorated. It left Potter stammering and stunned at himself every time something slipped from his mouth, but Draco, before he could help himself, always quipped back with something he definitely would not have said weeks ago either.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It felt like a game. Like one of them was waiting for the other to break.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Openly flirting with Potter - even though they kept passing it off as jokes - was a new development. A rather dangerous one, at that, if he wanted to avoid The Conversation, but it was intoxicating. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was still terrified of what this - whatever </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>was - could lead to. Of how it could ruin this friendship. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he could feel himself slipping away these days - getting lost in memories of his childhood, disassociating more often, waking up from nightmares. And this weird space that he and Potter had been inhabiting the past few days felt like some sort of anchor that kept him grounded. That kept him from disappearing into the mess he was a year ago. He was at least allowed this, right?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Potter eventually started to relax and launch into a rant about the latest Chudley Cannons game. Draco beamed as Potter’s hands gestured wildly, sandwich still in hand. Maybe this would be enough to make him okay for the weeks to come. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>As Astoria warned, it was far from enough.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(<em>I'm quite sure that flirting with a boy you're too scared to be with doesn't count as a healthy coping mechanism for all the other crap you're dealing with</em>, she had told him.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He and Potter had just been tidying up in the kitchen as Teddy played in the next room. His hands had been slippery from the soap and he had been laughing at a bad impression Potter was doing when the plate he was holding fell from his grip and crashed onto the floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’ll- I’m sorry. Where’s my wand? I can - I can -” His feet were planted firmly in place, feeling like a thousand kilograms each. He couldn’t move, panic starting to seep in deeper. “I’m sorry. I’m-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Malfoy, it’s just a plate,” Potter said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco’s eyes were wide and glued to the floor, but he could feel Potter narrowly avoiding the broken ceramic pieces to get to him. “Yeah, it’s your plate. I’m sorry. I’ll fix it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His hands were in fists, and he wanted to relax them, but he couldn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All he could do was keep his eyes open. If he shut them tight like he wanted to, he knew all he’d be able to see was the huge Manor kitchen with the high ceilings and towering windows. A glass goblet or porcelain bowl shattered on the black marble floor. His tiny nine-year-old hands bloodied from the shards he had tried to pick up before looking up to see his father’s furious face, expletives booming from his mouth and wand already raised for a punishment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hands held onto his shoulders gently, but Draco still flinched before realizing it was Potter’s. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, hey...Look at me,” Potter whispered, fully bringing him to the present. “I don’t care if you fix it or not. It’s just a plate. It’s alright.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He raised his head slowly. Every part of him still felt heavy and paralyzed, but he managed to meet Potter in the eye. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” Potter asked, the worry in his voice making Draco’s heart hurt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco wanted to shrug it off. But he still couldn’t move. Instead, he sighed and said, “Can you come with me tomorrow morning?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Potter tilted his head in question. His hands were now moving up and down Draco’s upper arms, and it would be so easy for Draco to just melt into the comfort of it and say </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nevermind. This is enough.</span>
  </em>
  <span> But a voice in his head - Astoria’s, probably - was warning him not to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Support group,” he managed, looking away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” Potter whispered. “Yes, of course. I’ll ask ‘Mione and Ron if they can watch Teddy, and we can... Of course.”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the end of the meeting, he found himself silently leaving the room without waiting another second. He needed to get out of there.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everyone was telling stories about the people they lost. Which, of course, was the point. It was just that, today, it felt like the most irritating thing in the world. Not because they annoyed him. But because he was starting to realize that maybe not being able to untangle his feelings about his father’s death just wasn’t the problem anymore. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knew now his weird grief was - ugh, he didn’t want to hear the word again - </span>
  <em>
    <span>valid</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He knew now his father was still a terrible person despite it. He knew now that he was mourning the lack of closure and confrontation more than anything else. He knew all that now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But to say that all this pain that seemed to be permanently lodged in his body wasn’t just because of conflicting feelings about his father’s death was an understatement. It was because of his father. Period. His death was just a footnote compared to the shite he had put Draco and his mother through. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At what parts of this meeting could he talk about the physical abuse? The death threats? The fear of commitment because he was raised to believe he didn’t deserve love? And to believe that the kind of love he wanted was wrong anyway? When could he bring up the fact that maybe talking about his complicated feelings about his father's death wasn’t enough to resolve the trauma from being turned into a child soldier in some bizarre magical war? When’s the right time for that? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His thoughts started to get away from him, getting louder. Stopping in his tracks, he inhaled slowly. But it was too late, his arms felt dead at his sides and his feet felt stuck on the pavement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Malfoy!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco knew it was Potter. He didn’t need to turn around. Then again, he couldn’t. He willed some part of him to move, but as the panic and anger and exhaustion started to set in, all he could do was focus on a spot on the ground and try not to throw up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Potter was in front of him now. “I just turned around and you were gone. You barely talked in there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mhmm,” was all he could manage, still focusing on the spot of pavement his gaze had locked onto. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Malfoy…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco wanted to look up. He really did. But there was this weight settling all over him that told him he’d break into tears if he looked him in the eye right now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Malfoy,” he said again, a hand gripping his elbow now. “I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know what’s wrong. Tell me what to do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The strain in Potter’s voice pierces through the fury and ache swirling in his chest, through the blur of childhood memories starting to form in his head, long enough for him to ask, “I know you rode your bike here, but can we walk?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Potter is silent for a quick moment as if considering if that counted as an answer. “Okay."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Draco never specified, but the first time he looked up the entire way there, he was already standing in front of Grimmauld Place with Potter unlocking the door. Of course Potter understood. Of course he was starting to pick up on the fact that this is where Draco felt safest. That this was somehow his default place now too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked at Potter for the first time since the meeting, and there he saw concerned eyes and furrowed brows but also a small, encouraging smile as he gestured for Draco to come in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On the walk here, Draco’s mind had mostly cleared. He could think. He could move without it feeling like a dragging weight. But the stinging in his chest was still there. The pain still felt like a rubber band pulled taut and the snap was just waiting to happen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They walked up the stairs in silence. When they reached the living room, Draco turned to him. “Can I lie down for a while? In Teddy’s room?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t even need to ask me that,” Potter said, absentmindedly fixing the collar of Draco’s coat. “Of course you can. ” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Draco murmured, before heading off to the next flight of stairs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he got to Teddy’s room, there wasn’t even time for him to close the door before a sob ripped through him, knocking out a breath out and taking away all stability his legs had. He managed to stumble to the bed before he could fall. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dropping onto the mattress, he kicked off his shoes and peeled off his coat before curling in on himself. Heaving and blind from the tears streaming down his face, he grabbed a pillow and hugged it close to his chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stayed like that for a while - his breaths coming in choked gasps, his tears starting to sting, his urge to scream getting stronger and stronger. It wasn’t an attack, it was something else. He just wasn’t sure what to call it. It was rage and hopelessness and desperation to feel something other than all </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It was a soreness in his bones that he couldn’t shake and the desire to stay in bed until the sun came down. Or until the year ended. Or until he was nothing but rot. This hasn’t happened in a while.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, he felt the mattress shift and a hand on his shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Malfoy,” Potter said behind him. There was a reverence in his voice that sent a shiver down Draco’s spine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco tried to reply, but all that came out was another strangled sob. He shut his eyes tight miserably at the pathetic noise that escaped his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before Draco could apologize for being a mess like this or ask Potter why he was here, he felt the bed shift again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly there’s an arm wrapped loosely around his waist and a ghost of a breath against the back of his neck, and Draco stilled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His heart was going to beat right out of him. He was sure of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They had been bolder with their touches lately, letting fingers linger longer than usual. But this. This was...Well, it was definitely something else. Draco felt like every part of his body was lit up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I got you,” Potter whispered, a slight shake in his voice. “Is this...Is this okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An excruciating urge to turn around and burrow his face into the crook of Potter’s neck has now added to the agony from, well, everything else. The two emotions sat next to each other in his ribs, threatening to knock into each other and explode. “Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He heard a sigh of relief from behind him. “Okay. Good.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco needed more, though. More touch. Needed it enough to not even think twice about scooting backwards until his back was pressed against Potter’s chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He felt Potter freeze for a few seconds before relaxing into it and pressing his forehead against the nape of Draco’s neck. Draco let himself relish in the feeling of the contact even as his tears continued to fall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He isn’t sure how long Potter held him like that, but when his sobs started to subside, chest no longer moving in erratic heaves, he managed a small, “Hello.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco felt exhausted from the crying, like he didn’t have it in him to ever get up again, but having Potter’s arm wrapped tightly around him and his warmth encompassing him made it easier for Draco to ground himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” Potter said softly. “I’m sorry if this is...you know. Weird.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It isn’t,” Draco said, a little too quickly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. Hah. Okay...It’s just that...We used to do this for each other a lot. After the war.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘We’?” Draco asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hermione and Ron,” he clarified. “We were never really physically affectionate with each other growing up, you know? Apart from a hug here and there from Hermione. But I think after the war we all realized how much we needed it. Everyone does. Especially on days like this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The mental image of the three of them in bed cuddling explained the easy way Potter embraced Weasley or kissed Granger on the forehead. It was something Draco never really had outside of romantic relationships until Astoria. And even then, Draco struggled to be affectionate with her that casually sometimes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But right now, the sensation of someone’s presence this close to him - of Potter’s chest rising and falling against his back - felt good. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to remember the last time someone had held him like this even if he tried. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well...Thank you,” Draco said, terrified of how safe he felt in Potter’s arms. Terrified of how much stronger it would feel if he didn’t have his back turned to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Potter sounded so sure of himself, but Draco still noticed the slight tremor of the arm wrapped around him. Potter was obviously still nervous despite Draco’s multiple reassurances that </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes, this was okay, more than okay, actually.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay if it’s not enough anymore,” Potter said suddenly. “The support group thing, I mean. You’ve suffered so much because of him. Talking about how his death makes you feel probably doesn’t cut it anymore, does it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco’s breath hitched, not quite sure when exactly Potter had found it so easy to read him. And he wanted to ask him how he knew, but all that could come out was a small huff of relief that he didn’t have to explain to him. “Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There are other options, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco sighed. “I know.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked at Potter’s arm that was draped over him, at this hand. Draco wanted to hold it so bad. He wasn’t sure why it felt too risky to interlace their fingers when Potter literally had an arm wrapped around him. Draco's fingers twitched a little from how much he was holding back even then, even like this. He balled his hands into fists to restrain himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turned around, facing Potter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he does, Potter’s arm fell from his waist, but the loss of touch was only slightly jarring compared to how little he prepared for how close they were. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They lied on their sides, just inches apart. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If anyone told me Harry Potter would be comforting me after a breakdown by</span>
  <em>
    <span> cuddling</span>
  </em>
  <span> with me four months ago...,” Draco trailed off, amused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Potter looked away, a shy smile on his face that made Draco melt a little. “It’s not cuddling, it’s science.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco laughed. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Science</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well! You know!” He was gesturing vaguely with his hands now, and Draco watched him struggle with the words with a grin. “The psychological benefits of human touch! And everything!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco shook his head. He still felt worn out, but he was feeling lighter now. “Whatever, Potter. If you wanted cuddles from me, you could’ve just asked, is all I’m saying.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The corners of Potter's lips tugged upwards, but he bit it back, kicking Draco lightly on the shin. “I hate you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure you do,” he said. He definitely wasn’t doing a job at not feeding into this unspoken thing between them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You irritating fuck,” Potter said, and it somehow came off sounding endearing. “It’s just what friends do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Friends. Sure,” Draco retorted. As soon as it left his mouth he knew that it was a bit too far. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Potter tensed, glancing anywhere but Draco’s face. He cleared his throat. “Er. Well. I hope you’re feeling better.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Crap. Crap crap crap</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “I am. Thanks to you. And your </span>
  <em>
    <span>science.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When this gets an eye roll and a grin out of Potter, Draco huffs in relief.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>It took him a few days, but Draco finally found a therapist that didn’t sound like it would end in a disaster. Granger had found her in her list of contacts of private practitioners, so it wasn’t anyone from St. Mungo’s, which would be too awkward. And she only moved here from America two years ago, so she was detached enough to not know every single thing about Draco that the rest of wizarding Britain knew. </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was also a half-blood who got an actual Muggle degree after graduating Ilvermorny, so Draco knew she was already a lot more competent than most of the Healers he knew who still clung to archaic magical methods.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Draco didn’t realize how jittery he was until Astoria put a hand on his knee. “Draco. It’ll be fine.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He just nodded, putting his hand on Astoria’s and squeezing as a thank you for accompanying him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Looking around the waiting room, it was evident that this was a mostly Muggle practice. The coffee table held a stack of Muggle magazines and books and on the wall was a television playing a program he could vaguely remember from watching it with Potter. The only other people in the room were the receptionist, who was rambling into her mobile phone, and a teenage girl who was wearing the uniform of the Muggle school he had passed on the way here. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It gave him more reassurance that he was at least less likely to run into anyone he knew here. He was making a mental note to ask Hermione where she found this Healer - well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>doctor,</span>
  </em>
  <span> more like - when the receptionist called his name. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You got this,” Astoria whispered as he stood up.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Harry wasn’t sure what was going on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had been expecting things to get weird after that night. And it </span>
  <em>
    <span>has </span>
  </em>
  <span>been different, but not in the way he’d been anticipating. Harry was prepared for Malfoy to distance himself. Or spend less time around him. He definitely wasn’t banking on Malfoy being more affectionate and open now that he definitely knew about Harry’s feelings. Nor had he been expecting himself to be bolder about the way he acted around Malfoy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The energy between them had been this strange, but deliriously intoxicating, thing that Harry couldn’t quite put his finger on. There was constantly a vibrant thrum of something. And it has been driving Harry a little mad.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Were they just getting closer? Did Malfoy not care that Harry fancied him? Should he just take what he can, no matter how much he didn’t understand what was going on, because he was still lucky to have this friendship that has been so good for him?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he had told Hermione and Ron about it, they just looked at him incredulously and immediately said </span>
  <em>
    <span>He fancies you back, you idiot.</span>
  </em>
  <span> But Harry couldn’t be sure yet. And he didn’t want to risk this friendship for something that he couldn’t be 100% certain of.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Harry!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry looked up from the little pile of crayons he was staring at to see Teddy frowning at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not listening!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He reached over to ruffle his hair, which was currently bright blue. “Sorry, Teddy. What were you saying?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were sitting crossed-legged on the floor in front of a bunch of papers with crayon drawings. Many of them are pictures of castles, mountains, and of course, dragons. The rain was pouring hard outside, and Teddy had asked Harry to keep him company until it stopped. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Teddy let out an exaggerated sigh that Harry couldn’t help but find adorable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>said</span>
  </em>
  <span> that I don’t like how my dragons look!” he said, dejectedly looking at his latest drawing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aww, come on, what are you talking about?” Harry grabbed him and placed him on his lap, looking down at Teddy’s drawing. He rested his chin on top of Teddy’s head and pointed at the drawing. “That is a brilliant drawing!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Teddy huffed in frustration. “I want it to look like the ones from my books.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It doesn’t have to look like the ones from your books for it to be good, kid,” Harry said, poking Teddy’s cheek. “Your art is lovely.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Teddy turned to look at him, skeptical but hopeful. “Really?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, definitely!” Harry assured. “And you can keep practicing to get even better. I’ll buy you all the crayons and markers and paint you need, just you watch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Teddy beamed at him, giggling and slumping back onto him as Harry squeezed him into a hug. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Outside, a clap of thunder ripped through the air, and Teddy stiffened. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry looked out the window to see the storm was getting worse. He carded his fingers through Teddy’s hair and murmured, “Hey, it’s fine. Just a little thunder. No need to-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before he could finish, a flash of lightning illuminated the street outside, and everything went dark as the power went out. Teddy shrieked, burying his face in Harry’s chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry held Teddy and waited a few seconds for the electricity to come back. But it didn’t, and the four-year-old was obviously just a few seconds away from bursting into tears. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Teddy,” he cooed as he rubbed his back. “It’s fine, kid. Look, it’s just-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He cut himself off as he started to feel Teddy tremble in his arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Lumos</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The word slipped from his lips before he even knew what he was doing, and just like that, there was sudden brightness in the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lifted his hands gingerly from Teddy to find orbs of light floating from his palms. A laugh escapes his mouth in shock.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Teddy stirred, turning around and gasping. It’s only then that Harry realized that Teddy probably didn’t remember the last time he saw Harry do magic. That he’d never seen </span>
  <em>
    <span>wandless </span>
  </em>
  <span>magic at all. “Pretty cool, yeah?” he asks, his voice shaking from an emotion he can’t quite place yet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His godson looked up at him with frantic eyes, nodding enthusiastically. “More!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He chuckled, the nerves starting to loosen at the sight of Teddy’s awe-struck expression. “Er...Okay, let’s see if I can still…” Closing his eyes, he whispered more incantations.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry only opened his eyes as Teddy leapt out of his lap, squealing. The orbs had multiplied and started floating about the room. Harry’s chest tightened as he watched his godson run around the room chasing the lights, his face illuminated by the white glow. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry fiddled with his wand, staring at it like he couldn’t believe he was actually holding it for the first time in a year. “I mean, it was just simple spell-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop that,” Malfoy said immediately. “You’re using magic again. That’s bloody excellent.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry shot him a grateful look from across the kitchen table. “Thanks...I just...I don’t know. Is it enough?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was no need for elaboration. Malfoy seemed to understand. “Well, you obviously can’t be a Defense professor with just that spell. But that’s why we can work on it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He raised an eyebrow. “We?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy shrugged. “Yeah. I can help you out. With your magic. Train with you if you need someone to duel with.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’d do that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I wouldn’t. This friendship was just a long-term ploy to get you to allow me to throw a hex at your face, after all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry rolled his eyes at the sarcasm, kicking Malfoy under the table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy broke into a smirk, and Harry has to keep himself from reaching out for his face as he did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, I’d really do that,” Malfoy said like it was obvious. “It’ll help you get used to magic again. Make it less daunting. We can start tomorrow?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Okay, yeah. Yeah.” Harry nudged his knee against Malfoy’s under the table because he just didn’t know how to show gratitude or warmth without feeling like he’s toeing a line anymore. “So, how was the session?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy's face slackened a little at that and sighed. “It was...good, actually? Still a bit overwhelming, though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you think it will help?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked down for a few moments, mulling over his answer, before nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. It's all still really intimidating, but...my thoughts felt a little less tangled when I talk to her. ” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh. That's great, Malfoy” he said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah," Malfoy said, grinning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Maybe I should go to therapy," Harry joked. </span>
</p>
<p>Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Well, <em>I</em> wasn't going to say it. but..."</p>
<p>Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'll get there. We're talking about <em>you</em> right now, though. One 22-year-old with war trauma at a time, please."</p>
<p>Malfoy snickered, balling up an empty sugar packet and throwing it at him. </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>The next day, Harry found himself in the old kitchen-slash-dining-room, moving his bike out of the way to make more space. The room was already huge and quite empty anyway, but he mostly needed to keep himself busy until they started. He was nervous about actually using magic again and the jumpiness he felt could attest to that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Potter, we have enough space.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry groaned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He took his wand out of this pocket, getting used to its weight in his hands again. Harry studied the wood of it, a faint line in the middle marking where it had once snapped in half.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll be fine,” Malfoy said from the other end of the room, making Harry look up. “Come on, then. You first.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry raised his wand, pointing towards Malfoy. The gesture felt so foreign to him. “I feel dumb.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy rolled his eyes. “You did this for a decade of your life. You can do it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah.” Harry shifted into a dueling stance, regardless of how unnecessary it was. It just felt more stable. He waved his wand. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Petrificus Totalus!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy slashed his wand in the air, casting a nonverbal shield charm</span>
  <span> before nodding slowly. “Not bad. Wanna try another one?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry gripped his wand, the feel of it starting to feel less foreign as he lifted it again. Without thinking too much about it this time, he jabbed it forward, casting a nonverbal Aqua Eructo charm. From his wand shot a jet of water, dousing Malfoy completely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the fuck!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry clamped a hand over his mouth but a snort escaped as he watched Malfoy stare down at himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy shook his head. “Oh, you’re paying for that one, Potter.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Make me.” Spreading his arms wide open, Harry grinned smugly. He was trying his best to not show that seeing Malfoy in a soaked-through shirt and damp hair, staring him down with a wolfish smile, was maybe the hottest thing he’s ever seen.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>They practiced magic for the next few days. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Each session, Harry got faster at throwing back spells, the need to think over which one he should use and the nerves that came with it slowly fading. Each move was starting to feel like second nature again. He could feel himself get reacquainted with the thrill of it, loving the way his arm moved and lips spoke on instinct, like a small, quiet part of his brain knew exactly what he needed and his body moving accordingly without much effort.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Malfoy made it better. With every low whistle he made when Harry did a particularly impressive spell or narrowly dodged one hurtling towards him, every surprised laugh he barked out when Harry would counter with wandless magic without thinking about it, and every gentle encouragement during moments Harry looked unsure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everything was going perfectly, without a single hitch in sight. Until he got an attack during their sixth session. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t anything significant that triggered it. No spell that he remembered vividly from the war, no mistake that made him panic. Harry wasn’t sure what exactly it was. But one moment he was dodging a hex from Malfoy and the next he was on the floor, trying to breathe properly and suddenly thinking about the feel of rubble under his feet four years ago as he walked towards the Forbidden Forest.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could vaguely hear Malfoy talking to him, but everything felt too loud. And too much. He scooted backwards until he was sitting against the wall. His fingers were trembling now, and he fidgeted until he couldn’t help but dig his nails into his skin again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, hey…” Malfoy held Harry’s hands by the fingers, prying them away from Harry’s palms before they caused the skin to redden and break. “Look at me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry stared at the floor. There was too much air in his lungs like if he didn’t breathe fast enough or choke it all out before it was too late he’d explode. He gasped through every gruelling second, trying to focus on something in the room. But nothing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Potter. I’m here. What do you see?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He threw his head back to rest against the wall, a silent, desperate prayer for everything to just stop. Breathing raggedly into the air, he shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, hey. You’re here. You’re here with me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The last few words manage to cut through the fog, and Harry looked at him and nodded with pleading eyes, as if to say, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh. There you are. Please stay. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry managed to stay present enough to be a little surprised when Malfoy replied, “I’m not going anywhere,” like he knew exactly what Harry was thinking. “Tell me what you see.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They run through it again like they had a few weeks ago when Harry had an attack during the fight with Ron. It took a while to coax answers from Harry, but after a while, Harry found himself very aware of the room he was in, of his body, of Malfoy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy whose hands were now on Harry’s shoulders and whose gaze felt piercing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry’s pulse had steadied, his breathing stuttering but better. “I don’t know what happened.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s alright,” Malfoy assured immediately, releasing Harry and standing up. He offered a hand, and Harry took it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he pushed himself off the floor, he stumbled a little, still feeling a little disoriented. “Oh sh-.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy caught him by the elbows, steadying him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “So much for progress, huh?” he mumbled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy frowned. “Hey. It was one attack. This doesn’t change anything about how well you’ve been doing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure if it was the gentle, sincere look in Malfoy’s eyes, the way it felt to use magic again these past few days, or the letter to McGonagall that was sitting on his desk upstairs that he really wanted to send instead of throw away, but Harry believed him. Nodding, he muttered a quick, “I know. You’re right.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a surprised smile on Malfoy’s face as if he had been expecting that he would have to convince Harry more. “Alright… Do you want to call it day for now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry bent down to pick up his wand that had clattered to the floor half an hour ago. “No, I’m good,” he said, actually meaning it. “I can do this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy grinned. “Yeah. You can.” </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Harry turned around after locking the bookshop up, Malfoy was standing there on the sidewalk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry recoiled, taking a couple of seconds to realize it was him. “Jesus, Malfoy! A warning next time, please!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was expecting Malfoy to make fun of him, but he didn’t. “Sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy didn’t look upset, really. But there was a tiredness in his eyes and reluctance in the way he spoke. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry tilted his head. “You alright? Thought you said you’d be working late today.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, er... They sent me home earlier,” Malfoy said. He huffed and shook his head as if to say it was nothing, but Harry could see through it. “Said I should take a few days off. Merlin knows for what.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry counted the days in his head and touched Malfoy’s arm as he registered that the anniversary was coming up. “It’s in a few days.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy was looking down on the pavement as he nodded. “I don’t know what it is. Therapy’s been helping. Mum is...well she’s been leaving her bedroom more, at least. But I’ve just been so distracted at work, and I can’t get any fucking sleep.” He looked up at Harry, and there was a desperation in his eyes. “And today was bad. I could feel all the pent up anger every single second today. And I just…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry looked down at Malfoy’s hands. They were flexed and stiff as if it was taking everything in him to not grab the nearest thing and rip to shreds. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does walking help?” Harry asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy’s brows knitted together. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When you were feeling this way last time...We walked all the way to my place, and it helped you calm down a little at least. Does that help?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh...I...Yeah, actually,” he said, like he never actually thought about it before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It made sense. Malfoy apparated everywhere he went, everything sped up and no time to breathe in between destinations. Going about like that all the time must feel like he always had somewhere to be, something to accomplish.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry gestured towards the direction he was going to take. “Well, I didn’t take my bike today. Want to walk with me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy nodded, shooting him a grateful look.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy is quiet for all of the long walk, but Harry didn’t mind. Just walking with him was nice, especially because he could feel Malfoy relax next to him. Every time he stole a glance, Malfoy looked more and more at ease. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they were waiting to cross the street, Harry even noticed Malfoy close his eyes and take deep breaths. His shoulders looked less tense, his jaw less tight, his face more peaceful. Harry watched the lights from the passing cars dance across his face, the reds and oranges making him glow. Then, Malfoy opened his eyes, and Harry looked away, overwhelmed by the feeling in his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s only when they start to walk through a park that Malfoy finally spoke. “Is this still on your way home?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sort of,” Harry said. “It’s the long way.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy surveyed the area as they strolled along the path. “Haven’t been here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eh, not much to see.” It was true. There were a few playgrounds and plant nurseries, but that was about it. Definitely far from the nicest parks in the city, but it was on the way, and it was a nice night. First night in a while that it wasn’t raining. Besides, he figured Malfoy would appreciate the quiet, being farther away from the roads. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Want to sit down for a bit?” Harry asked, stopping in front of a bench. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bench was enough to seat around four people, but they still sat so that they were touching. Shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy stared ahead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry expected to just sit in silence for a while when Malfoy said, “I’ve been feeling a bit lost these past few days. Like all the hard work to heal this past year is slowly being undone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It isn’t, though,” Harry offered. “You know that, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy let out a long exhale. “Logically, I do. But it doesn’t quite feel like that right now. I feel like I’m two bad days away from letting all this rage and misery consume me and I lose everything I’ve gained in the past year…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean? What are you scared of losing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He ran a hand across his face, rubbing at his eyes as he did. “When I spiralled last year, I sort of shut down. Didn’t want to accept anyone into my life, didn’t want to keep the ones who were already in it. I mean, the only reason Astoria is still in my life is because she’s bloody amazing and ignored me every time I said I didn’t want her around anymore. And getting better meant I got to keep the people I wanted to keep around without it scaring me now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And now you’re afraid again?” Harry asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Basically,” he mumbled, still not looking at Harry. “I sort of build walls around myself and push people away if you haven’t noticed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I haven’t,” Harry quipped. “You let me in pretty quickly all things considered.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because it’s you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry kept quiet for a few seconds, his mind wrapping around the words. His heartbeat started to quicken as if it was picking up on something his brain couldn’t. “What does that mean?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy, as if only just realizing what he had said, tensed and blinked. “Er...You know. You’re Teddy’s godfather. And Andromeda loves you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right,” Harry said, ignoring the nagging feeling that was tempting him to press on. “Are you scared of losing them?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy shrugged. “Yes? Maybe? I don’t know. I turned into a pretty shite person when I last went through this, so…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but you’re better now. And Andromeda and Teddy adore you. They’re your family too, remember? You won’t lose them. And I don't mean this in a 'they'll let it slide if you start being arsehole again' way. I mean that you're a good person now, and I trust you to stick to that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy nodded slowly. “...Yeah, I suppose. I hope so.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry sighed. “It’s normal to be scared of losing people in your life even if everything is going well, you know? That’s a regular part of having people to love. But don’t it get to you so much that you can’t enjoy that they’re here to stay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy snorted. “You sound like my therapist.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Harry replied, elbowing him. Then, after a few moments, he finally let himself ask, “You scared of losing me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re alright, I suppose,” Malfoy said in the voice he used whenever he was deflecting. If he was trying to sound cavalier about it, it wasn’t working.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Malfoy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The forced smirk on Malfoy’s face faltered. “...I am.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You won’t. Lose me, that is,” Harry said, almost in a whisper. He knew that it was a big thing to promise. Even in passing, even offhandedly. They’ve only been in each other’s lives for a few months, after all. But still, Harry could feel in his gut just how much he meant it. How much he trusted Malfoy to not do anything that would make Harry take it back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Malfoy said, the disbelief evident in his tone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy finally turned to face him. “Yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a lump in Harry’s throat like there was so much more he wanted to say lodged in it. “Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve been extremely sappy lately, you know,” Malfoy said. “Why are you going soft on me, Potter?” he drawled, a teasing grin growing on his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before he could stop himself, the filter in his head failing again like it has been ever since the night they came home drunk together, he said, “You know exactly why.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t even bring himself to make it sound like a joke. It was like his body was screaming for him to just tell Malfoy already.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy’s face softened. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry’s face was burning and his pulse was picking up as he watched Malfoy’s face. He didn’t even look confused. He hasn’t looked confused at all whenever Harry slipped up like that ever since that night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If Harry wasn’t already sure that Malfoy knew about his feelings for him, the way he was looking at Harry would’ve been a giveaway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It has been like this the past two weeks. He’d accidentally say something too revealing, and Malfoy would flirt back. Or touch him in a way that was just the tiniest bit past platonic. Or give him that look. The look he was giving him now. The raised brows and the bright eyes and tiny smile and-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Harry wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake an explanation out of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Potter?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Feeling too bold for his own good again, Harry repeated, “You know exactly why.” He said it like a challenge this time. Maybe it was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy opened his mouth before closing it again and facing away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Figures</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Harry thought, his heart sinking to his stomach. He shut his eyes tight, trying not to panic. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He knows and he won’t tell you he does. He knows and he doesn’t have it in him to reject you. He knows and he obviously knows that you know he knows but he still isn’t saying anything because he doesn’t want you back. He knows and-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry felt a tiny movement at the spot where his and Malfoy’s hands were gripping the edge of the bench’s seat, side by side. His eyes flew open in time to watch Malfoy’s pinky slowly curl over his, and all his thoughts quieted in an instant.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked at Malfoy, who was already looking back at him with an apprehensive but endearing gaze. Harry was sure he could die right there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think you’re going soft on me too,” Harry managed, every part of him a mess from the way his attention was split between the look on Malfoy’s face and the spot between them where their pinkies were linked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy huffed in amusement. “Maybe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stayed like that for a few moments before getting up and deciding to call it a night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They didn’t talk about it again as Malfoy walked him back to Grimmauld Place. Nor did they during the quick cup of tea they had before Malfoy had to go home. But even as Harry watched Malfoy leave his house without getting a clear answer from him, there was a sureness that he could feel deep in his chest that was equal parts exhilarating and petrifying.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>If Harry was being honest, he had expected them to talk about it the second Malfoy walked through his front door the following day.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>They didn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Harry understood. Malfoy wasn’t in the best place right now, and just getting out of his house when he’s been ordered to take time off from work must be difficult amid everything. He was thankful that Malfoy still came over just to help him with his magic at all. But when most of their practice session passed without any mention of whatever unspoken Thing happened between them last night, Harry couldn’t help but feel disappointed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it was alright. Malfoy seemed to be in a better mood, at least. Harry could still see him get lost in his thoughts from time to time when they took breaks, and it was obvious that he still wasn’t getting enough sleep, but his snark and teasing were back, their conversations easy again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Harry easily deflected a hex Malfoy cast, he smirked and said, “Ah, come on, Malfoy. That’s all you got? Teddy could have done a better-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before he could finish the jibe, he felt his wand fly out of his hand. He watched it shoot across the room before looking at Malfoy, who was laughing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were saying, Potter?” he asked. He grinned proudly, bottom lip caught between his teeth. Harry couldn’t really find it in himself to be that annoyed looking at him. “And with your precious signature spell too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry narrowed his eyes at him, holding back a smile. “Yeah. </span>
  <em>
    <span>My </span>
  </em>
  <span>spell.” Instead of going to pick up his wand, he raised his arm toward Malfoy and, with a flick of the wrist, yelled, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Expelliarmus!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy’s wand shot out of his grip, soaring in the air. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Catching it without difficulty, Harry smirked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy barked out a disbelieving laugh. “Okay, not fair.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know, I think it was pretty fair," he said, twirling Malfoy's wand between his fingers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy crossed the room and snatched his own wand from Harry. “This isn’t fun anymore,” he muttered, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward and his impressed expression still hasn’t left his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re just jealous,” Harry teased. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy tilted his chin forward. “I can fight without a wand too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry raised his eyebrows. “You told me you can’t do wandless magic.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t say anything about magic,” Malfoy pointed out before shoving Harry lightly by the shoulders.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry scoffed. “Okay, real mature, Malfoy,” he mumbled, shoving back. “I grew up with a cousin who hated me and was three times my size. You think I can’t take you in an actual fight?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy grinned, stepping forward. “Wanna find out?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry smiled, lifting his hands again and feeling the energy of his magic thrum in his palms. “Nah, I think I’ll stick to-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t even notice that he was cornered into the wall until Malfoy quickly pinned Harry’s wrists back up against it on either side of his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Try hexing me now, you cheater,” Malfoy challenged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You're such a sore loser. You know that I...” he trailed off, his laugh fading as he started to register just how close they were, their chests brushing against each other with each rise and fall and Malfoy’s face almost out of focus from the proximity. </span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy seemed to notice too because his face slowly grew serious and stunned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” he murmured, letting go of Harry’s wrists. But he didn’t move away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“S’okay,” Harry whispered back. The air felt like it was charged with something new and alive and overwhelming, and he was reeling in it as he watched the way Malfoy looked back at him - fondness in his eyes as they searched Harry’s. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry thought for a second there that he could wait. That he could give Malfoy a moment or two to say - or Merlin, </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> - something. But then, Malfoy’s eyes flickered to his lips, and something in Harry </span>
  <em>
    <span>snapped.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He brought his hand to the side of Malfoy’s neck, thumb brushing the jut of his jaw, and leaned in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy moved forward too, and Harry was sure that his nerves were being set on fire, his heartbeat unrelenting and his thoughts shutting down to a quiet. He was about to </span>
  <em>
    <span>just kiss him just kiss him just kiss him</span>
  </em>
  <span> when he felt Malfoy tense up and step back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His own hand fell to his side, body feeling the shock at the sudden loss of contact and closeness and- </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy was breathing hard, eyes full of fear now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Malfoy.” Harry wanted to cringe at how the name came out strangled and desperate from his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is a bad idea,” he said, looking down. “I’m not…I shouldn’t…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry could feel something in him twist. Like he’d just taken a step just to find out the floor had disappeared from underneath his feet. Whatever adrenaline had taken over him to make a move vanished, leaving him only with dread. “Did I misread things?” he managed, even if his voice did tremble. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy just took a deep breath, looking up at him again with panicked eyes. “I need to go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry opened his mouth and then closed it, unable to comprehend the progression of the last two minutes and what Malfoy was thinking when he looked like he was two seconds away from kissing Harry just moments ago. “That doesn’t answer my question.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I...I know.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So are we just not going to talk about it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy sighed. “We will. I just...Right now, I need to go,” he said, exhaustion dripping from his voice like it had the night before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry wanted to scream in frustration, but the pleading look on Malfoy’s face was disarming. He knew Malfoy had about a million things going on right now. And it wasn’t like Harry could force him to stay and explain what the fuck was happening either way. It didn’t change the fact that Malfoy didn’t want to kiss him. “Okay.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After standing there a couple more seconds as if waiting for Harry to say something else, he nodded slowly and turned around. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before Harry could stop himself, he blurted out, “Take care of yourself. Please.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy halted. With his back still to Harry, he mumbled, “You too,” before walking away.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>- they're going THROUGH IT i know i know but dont worry ok hang in there they'll get there sooner than u think. on an unrelated note im having fun writing the next chapter :) :) :)<br/>- speaking of! just a heads up: the fic doesnt end when they get together/finally kiss bc they have a lot of Growing Up to do and shit to work out as A Couple, ya know? like i said from the start, it's a long fic. 9 chapters more give or take based off my outline lmao<br/>- thank you so much for the comments and kudos!!! they rly mean the world to me and always push me to write. im trying to be better at replying faster i swear ksjdfks<br/>- my tumblr is ginnywcasleys! ty for those who take the time to message me on tumblr and remind me to update lol i need it and yall are heroes.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. i’ll find your lips in the streetlights</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Harry's worrying over Draco is driving him mad on top of missing him terribly. He's just not sure what to do about it.</p><p>or </p><p>so what do u do when the dude u have crush on ghosts u after try to kiss him? :/</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>posting this a lil early bc it's a lottt shorter than the last few updates lmao</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Astoria,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m sorry for writing you while you’re at work. And for probably putting you in a weird position. But I know it's going to be a hard day for Malfoy today, and I don’t want to bother him by writing him more than once when he hasn’t responded. I understand, of course. I’ve asked Andromeda, and she hasn’t heard from him or Narcissa either. I know that if he’s going to talk to anyone right now, it’s you. Can you let me know if he’s alright? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Harry </span>
  </em>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>Harry,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t be sorry at all, I know how Draco can get. I stopped by his house before going to work today, and well...He’s holding up. He still went to therapy yesterday, at least, so I know he’s taking care of himself. He’s doing way better than he thought he would, I think. But don’t worry. I’m still going to keep an eye out, regardless. I’ll check in again after work and in the next few days. You know he can try to physically throw me out and I’d still find a way to make sure he’s alright.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll let you know if anything comes up, but right now, don’t worry too much, alright? He’s got this. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Astoria</span>
  </em>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione set the letter down on the end table as she curled back up on his sofa. “Well, it sounds like he’s doing okay...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but...I still just...I feel horrible,” Harry said as he moved his pawn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because he tried to make out with him while the bloke was in the middle of mental breakdown,” Ron supplied from across the coffee table, not looking up from the chessboard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Ron,” Harry murmured as Hermione reached over to where they were sitting on the floor so that she could thump the back of Ron’s head with a throw pillow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ow! You asked!” Ron rubbed the back of his head. He looked up at Harry. “Sorry, mate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry shook his head. “It’s fine. You’re right. I wasn’t thinking straight.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me about it,” Ron said, grinning wide as he moved one of his chess pieces. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry couldn’t help but snort at that. “Very funny.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still think he fancies you, though,” Hermione said. “Your timing was just…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The worst?” Harry guessed. “Inconsiderate? Pure crap?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Less than ideal."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry rolled his eyes. “That’s one way to put it. Besides, you don’t know that. Yeah, he’s going through a lot right now, but that doesn’t mean that’s the only reason he turned me down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, mate, he definitely fancies you,” Ron said, taking a swig of his beer and turning to Hermione with a faux thoughtful expression. “Did I tell you that last week I visited Harry at the bookshop to have lunch with him because I’m a wonderful friend and the two of them just flirted in front of me for half an hour?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione smirked “Did I tell you that I dropped by St. Mungo’s to ask Draco about the contacts I was working with and saw that he keeps all the little notes Harry writes him when he sends </span>
  <em>
    <span>pastries </span>
  </em>
  <span>on his desk?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did I tell you that-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry threw a chess piece at each of them, biting back a smile. “Okay, okay, I get it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched his friends laugh, feeling blooming warmth just from their company even as he pretended to be annoyed. But the worry still persisted. “I don’t even care about that right now, though. I just...want him to be okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione sighed. “I know, Harry, but there isn’t much you can do right now other than keep checking on him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Yeah...I just don’t want to bother him, you know?” Even as he said it, it was hard to not think about the fact that this is the longest he’s gone without hearing from Malfoy in the past few months and that it was killing him to not do anything about it.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>That Sunday, Harry agreed to have dinner at the Weasleys’ after Ginny and Ron called to invite him. He was expecting the lot to make a big deal about him showing up on a regular Friday when he has missed a handful of family events. He was even psyching himself up for all the guilt he’d feel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Last he visited the Burrow was months ago. He had barely been speaking to anyone then and it was one of the handful of times any of them had seen him in the past year. Harry remembered Ginny avoiding him like the plague and everyone looking at him with pity and concern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But tonight, things were going better than he anticipated, and it was exactly what he needed to take his mind off Malfoy, even if it was only for a few hours. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one looked shocked or made a huge deal of it when he actually laughed along and participated in conversations this time. He and Ginny beat everyone (well, mostly George) to the punch by making jokes about their breakup themselves, ridding the night of any awkwardness. Fleur even let him watch Dominique alone in the living room while she and Bill set the table, and that was (justifiably) definitely not something she would have been okay with months ago when he was a mess. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harry, you really don’t need to help out, dear. We’ve got this,” Molly insisted, moving to take the stack of dirty dishes Harry was carrying to the sink after dinner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry dodged her hands. “No, no, it’s alright. I’ll do all the cleaning up. It’s the least I can do after I…” he trailed off, realizing he was breaking what seemed to be the unspoken rule tonight: don’t mention that Harry’s been kind of a prick to everyone this past year.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was too late though. Molly frowned at him and Arthur, who was wiping down the kitchen table, looked up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harry, sweetheart, what I’m not going to have is you beating yourself up for all that,” she said sternly, taking the plates from him and placing them in the sink. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just...Still feel terrible about shutting you all out,” Harry admitted, his eyes darting back and forth between their faces. “After everything you’ve done for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mrs. Weasley sighed and put her hands on his arms, her grip reassuring and grounding. Mr. Weasley was behind her now, looking at Harry with furrowed brows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re not going to tell you how to feel, Harry,” Mr. Weasley said. “But we never held anything against you. I hope you know that. We were just worried. And now that you’re better and acting like yourself again...more like yourself that you have been in years, really...We’re just happy to have you back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re family, okay?” Mrs. Weasley insisted. Harry towered over but he still felt small and cared for just from being under her doting gaze. “You were family to us long before you and Ginny got together, and you’re still family to us now. That hasn’t changed, my boy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The assurance felt like it came out of nowhere until Harry realized it was something he’d been asking himself. If he was still welcomed in their home and lives to the extent he had been before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Thank you.” It came out more strained than Harry intended. He could feel his throat go dry and tears threatening to form in his eyes as they looked at him with a tenderness that took him back to the first time he had breakfast with them. Harry could practically smell the breakfast Mrs. Weasley had whipped up the morning after Ron and the twins had broken him out of Privet Drive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The way his voice cracked must not have gone unnoticed because suddenly Mrs.Weasley was hugging him fiercely and Mr. Weasley was rubbing his back, leaving Harry feeling like he was twelve again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A cough came from the doorway and Harry pulled apart from Mrs. Weasley to see Ginny leaning against the doorframe. “Sorry to interrupt a touching moment or whatever, but your godson is crying because Vic spilled milk all over his dragon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry chuckled, lifting his glasses to wipe away his tears with his sleeves. “House full of wizards, and none of you can clean the dragon up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hermione’s already tried, but he won’t let any of us do it because he wants you to do it,” Ginny said, shaking her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry groaned, although mostly for effect because he actually really enjoyed Teddy’s fascination with him using magic now. The kid still wasn’t used to it. Just the other day, Teddy had dissolved into a fit of excited giggles just from Harry using Reparo on a pencil he accidentally stepped on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leave me dishes to wash, okay?” he said to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who just waved him off to go attend to Teddy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ginny linked her arm with his as they walked down the hallway and toward the living room, where Harry could hear Teddy and Vic squabbling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry ‘bout that. He’s kind of going through this thing where he wants me to be the only one doing magic around him,” Harry said. “We’re working on it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ginny poked him in the rib. “Why? What’s so special about you? You save the world or something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry snorted and shoved her as she laughed hard at her own joke. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>After getting Teddy to sleep, Harry retired to his bedroom, feeling knackered. It had been a really nice night, but being around so many people still felt jarring after all those months by himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry meant to go to the bathroom to shower and change into his pyjamas, but he found himself sitting on the ottoman at the foot of his bed and taking his mobile out. He was dialling the number before he realized what he was doing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harry?” Andromeda answered after the first ring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Andromeda.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is everything okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s good,” he mumbled, feeling a bit stupid for calling her at this hour. “I’m sorry, it’s late.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s fine, I was just reading,” she assured. “Sorry we didn’t get to talk much when you picked Teddy up last Friday. You know how I am when I get in the zone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry chuckled, remembering her just gesturing for him to go get Teddy from his room while she scowled at her painting. Her face and tunic had been covered in blues and purples, her hair a frazzled mess. Andromeda didn’t necessarily look like Tonks, but Harry always did a double-take when she was like that because of how much Andromeda reminded him of her. “It’s fine, we were going to be late for dinner anyway. The Weasleys said they miss you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m sorry to miss it, but this commission I’m working on is really doing a number on me,” she said. “They’re coming to the party this Friday, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, definitely,” he said. “Said they couldn’t wait.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good, good…So, is there a reason you’re calling, dear?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well…” he rubbed at his forehead, already regretting calling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Draco. You want to ask about Draco,” she guessed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blood rushed to his cheeks. “Yeah? Sorry, I know I‘ve asked you already...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s alright, dear, but I’m afraid I haven’t heard from him either,” she said with a sigh. “Narcissa wrote me today, though. Said the two of them are doing better. Draco’s even going back to work. He just wants time to be alone, Harry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, I know,” Harry mumbled. “Just wanted to check if you’ve heard from him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really miss him, huh?” she asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do.” It was the first time Harry was admitting it out loud, but it didn’t matter. Everyone around him could tell anyway. “I haven’t been writing him at all anymore, though. I’m backing off, I swear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You say that like you’re not allowed to want to hear from him. It’s okay to still write him, you know. Hearing from you and knowing you care probably helps him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want him to feel pressured,” Harry argued. “He’s going through something, and the last thing he needs is someone constantly writing him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re projecting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...What?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You felt pressured when everyone was constantly checking up on you and trying to reach out when you were in a bad place. But that’s because you’ve always known that there were a whole bunch of people who loved you,” she pointed out. “For Malfoy, though...That’s all still new to him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>We’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> still new to him. What he needs now is for us to keep trying. He needs to remember that he’s not living the same life he was living before he started letting people in.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words hit Harry like a truck. Andromeda was completely right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry had just written Malfoy once, and it was on the day immediately after he had last seen him. Of course he didn’t reply then. It was when he was most vulnerable and lost. And Harry decided that that was enough because he had been scared to overstep boundaries again when, from what Malfoy had told him, sometimes crossing the line to pull Malfoy out from the walls he had built around himself was actually a good thing. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The only reason Astoria is still in my life is because she’s bloody amazing and ignored me every time I said I didn’t want her around anymore</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Malfoy had told him just a week ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus, I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andromeda laughed. “Oh, come on dear. Don’t beat yourself up.” It was the second time he was hearing this from someone tonight. “Just try reaching out again, yeah? I’m not saying pester him with endless letters until he responds, but a couple more reminders that you’re there for him won’t hurt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...You’re right. Thanks, Andromeda.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anytime, dear…” she trailed off, humming thoughtfully on the other end. “Harry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You and Malfoy...Are you two…?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could feel himself blush again, a chill racing up his limbs. She didn’t need to finish the question for Harry to understand what she was getting at, but he decided to play dumb anyway. “Are we what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Nothing, nevermind,” she conceded, to Harry’s relief. “You should go get some sleep. I’ll pick Teddy up tomorrow morning before you leave for work, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah. Goodnight Andromeda.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight, dear. Everything will be fine, alright?”</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>It was a particularly slow day at the bookshop, so Harry didn’t feel guilty about spending most of his time on the clock trying to write a letter that sounded right. All the fuss wasn’t necessary; he knew that. But it still felt like he had to make every word count. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But when the end of the day came and all he had was a bunch of crumpled paper and a pen that was running out of ink to show for it, he decided that it was getting a bit ridiculous. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked at the clock that told him he should be closing up already. He knew that getting to the Owl Post this late meant that at least there were fewer people to recognize him, but he was really pushing it. At this pace, he’d be lucky if it was still open by the time he got there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, he grabbed his pen again and decided that whatever comes out this time he’d just have to send. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He managed to write it in five minutes, albeit with chunks of it crossed out. Harry figured it was the best he could do. With his wand, he tapped the letter and a blank parchment next to it. The words he wrote without the scratched out phrases appeared on the fresh page, and he remembered Hermione showing him this spell in their fifth year and him telling her it was useless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry pocketed the draft and held the final letter, reading it one more time before sealing it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Malfoy,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s been weird without you. I realize that that’s strange to say because it hasn’t even been a full week since we last saw each other, but it’s true. And I understand that you need time and space, I really do. But I also hope you know that I’m excited to see you again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m sorry for how we left things. It was completely inappropriate of me to make a move without asking you first, especially when you were feeling vulnerable. It won’t happen again. Your recovery and healing should always come first.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I realize that my last letter - the only one I sent - was just me asking where you were and how you were doing, which was daft. I forgot to include the most important part: No matter how you’re doing, I’m here for you. Even on days when you feel like I should just give up on staying in your life.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This letter is more of a reminder of that more than anything, really. You’re surrounded by people who care about you and love being a part of your life. And this new version of you - the version you chose and worked on and is the most you you’ve ever been - won’t fuck it up. I know that much. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>HP</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Deciding that it was good enough, or at least as good as his brain was capable of at this point, Harry folded it up, sealed it in an envelope, and left. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>The three days before Malfoy responded felt like an eternity to Harry. But the moment he held the folded piece of parchment in his hand after detaching it from the leg of the Malfoys’ owl, Harry found himself hesitating to open it. The paper was tiny, so the message in it was definitely short enough that it shouldn’t be anything too bad, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then again, Harry realized, it could also just say ‘Leave me alone’ and he didn’t know what to do if it did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Getting annoyed at himself and the way his thoughts were ballooning into clouds of anxiety, Harry forced himself to unfold it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two words stared back at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Come over?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>- D.M.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adrenaline rushing through his veins, Harry immediately got up. He started dialling Andromeda’s number to ask for Malfoy’s address and grabbed his jacket and bike helmet on the way out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t matter that Malfoy had chosen to respond to him at two in the morning. He had to see him. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>When the front door opened, Harry was embarrassed by the breath of relief that escaped his mouth so audibly as he saw Draco Malfoy for the first time in a week. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy smiled weakly. “I’ll take that to mean you don’t hate me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was wearing trainers, light blue chinos, and a black jumper. It was the most casual Harry’s ever seen him, and yet he still looked dressed up. Still looked gorgeous. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your hair,” Harry comments instead of answering, staring at how soft and wavy Malfoy’s usually shiny and slicked back hair looked without all that product. It was taking everything in him to not reach out and run his fingers through it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you going to make fun of me? I changed my mind, I don’t want you here.” The twitch of the corners of his lips betrayed his words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry huffed out a chuckle. “It’s good to see you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You too.” Malfoy rubbed the back of his neck, stepping out into the night and closing the door behind him. “We should talk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry nodded, sitting down on the steps and watching Malfoy as he sat next to him. He figured he’d want to talk out here. Harry didn’t feel comfortable talking inside with Narcissa there either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He puffed up his cheeks and let out a slow exhale. “So…” Harry didn’t really think this far ahead. Now, perched on the front step of Malfoy’s townhouse in the middle of the night and waiting anxiously for him to speak, he realized he didn’t have any idea of what to expect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy sighed. “I don’t know where to start,” he admitted, looking at Harry desperately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry shrugged, trying not to get caught up in the grey eyes staring back at him. Somehow the ache of missing them still flickered to life even when Malfoy was right in front of him. “It’s alright. Start anywhere. How are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” Malfoy said. “Much better, really. My head’s gotten much clearer and...It doesn’t feel like every part of me feels so heavy that it would break me to try and get out of bed.” He eyed Harry warily as soon as he said it, like he was expecting some sort of negative reaction to that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry wasn’t sure why. Then again, admitting how bad his own episode was was hard for him too, no matter how much better he was now. He gave him an encouraging smile. “That’s good, Malfoy. I...I’m glad to hear that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat there in silence, just staring ahead, for a while. He wasn’t sure what else to say, wasn’t sure where he should take this conversation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pressed this closed on the narrow steps, Harry could eventually feel Malfoy start to shiver. Since he had ridden his bike, he had made sure to spell his clothes so that they kept him warm enough here. Of course, he could just do the same for Malfoy’s own clothes, but taking off Sirius’ - well </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> now, he supposed - thick leather jacket and draping it over Malfoy was something he had the sudden urge to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy looked at him gratefully. “Oh. Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” He watched Malfoy insert his arms into the sleeves that were too big for him and revel at the comfort and warmth of the fabric of the inner lining. Harry’s chest felt heavy with affection, and he found himself having to face away before he was tempted to try and kiss him again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A lull fell over them once more, but Harry didn’t mind. Just being next to Malfoy again was so much more than he could have asked for tonight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the corner of his eye, he paid attention to the way Malfoy ran his fingers over the cuffs of the jacket repeatedly, probably deep in thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few moments, he finally spoke. “I was fully expecting you and Andromeda to tell me off for disappearing on you for a bit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry frowned. “You were gone for barely a week, Malfoy. And it’s a hard time for you. Of course we understood.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that now,” he replied. “My brain was just...lying to me a lot this week. And on top of the attacks and nightmares…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand,” Harry said. He lifted his hand to place it on Malfoy’s knee, but pulled away after a second thought, scared that Malfoy might feel pressured by the touch. He couldn’t exactly pass it off as completely innocent anymore after trying to kiss him last week, even if it genuinely was out of comfort. “Are they still happening?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no…” Malfoy answered. “Not in the last few days, at least. Therapy helped. And taking time off from everything. I reckon I just never realized how constantly overwhelmed I was the past month.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Guilt flooded Harry, but he just nodded. He knew that he must’ve added to that. Knew that he must’ve made it worse, giving Malfoy more to worry about, when he practically confessed when they were drunk. Knew that he must’ve made everything more confusing when he tried to kiss him. Knew that-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy put his hand over Harry’s, and his thoughts froze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You made things easier, though,” Malfoy whispered, a sincerity in his eyes that Harry couldn’t take. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy hummed in amusement. “You can’t be surprised at that. There’s a reason I’m always with you. You make everything...quieter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart pounding hard in his chest, he just stared at Malfoy. It wasn’t what he was expecting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And not the kind of quiet that happens when I push down all my feelings,” Malfoy continued. “Legitimate quiet. Like I have space to breathe. Like...I have more room to untangle whatever the fuck is going on in here,” he said, gesturing towards his head with his other hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry looked at Malfoy’s hand over his. “I...I thought I had made things more difficult...When I -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t,” Malfoy assured. “I just...I always had to deal with certain issues. And when you...You know...I realized I had to face and get over them.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked at Malfoy, whose eyes were already on him. “What issues?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy visibly swallowed and took a deep breath. “Remember when we first started cleaning out the room for Teddy? About all my relationships before?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry took a few moments, thinking back to the first night Malfoy came over to his place. It was strange to think it was only a few months ago. It felt further into the past, as if Malfoy had always been part of his life like this. “I think? You said none of your relationships lasted long...because your dad would get to you or they’d be bothered about your past.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. That wasn’t quite true..,” Malfoy confessed “It was always the former, never the latter. It was always </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> fault. I was the one who always pushed them away. Because I believed for the longest time that...I didn’t deserve that love. And that the kind of love I wanted was wrong anyway...So, before any of my relationships could get serious, I’d always let all the trauma and pain consume me until I spiral and push them away. That’s why I haven’t dated anyone in a year. I was just...So tired of hurting people because of how messed up I was.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I can’t say I don’t understand,” Harry murmured, remembering the look on Ginny’s face the first time he saw her after shutting her out for weeks when he first hit rock bottom. “But the important thing is that you’re better now. Braver. You’re letting yourself keep people in your life now, and that has to mean something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A blissful look appeared on Malfoy’s face. “Now that my head’s clearing up, I know that. Well, and also because my therapist has been drilling that into my head...And what you said in your letter helped.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When you said that this version of myself - the one I chose and I worked hard to be - is someone capable of things the person I was a year ago wasn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry grinned at the self-assuredness on Malfoy's face. He loved seeing him like this. There was still apprehension in his eyes, but the firm way he said it told Harry that he believed the words coming out of his mouth. Or was letting himself try and believe it, at least. “I meant it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Harry replied earnestly. Then, he paused, before asking, “What does this have to do with me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A surprised laugh escaped Malfoy’s mouth, his brows furrowed. “You’re joking, right?” His eyes flicker to Harry’s knee, where Malfoy’s hand was still resting on Harry’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without thinking about it, Harry turned his hand over so that it’s palm-up. Malfoy laced their fingers together immediately, and Harry squeezed back until they were interlocked. He looked up to see Malfoy looking at him through his lashes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” was all Harry could muster, and it came out in a soft gasp as if a giant weight had been lifted from him. Goosebumps raced down his limbs and it felt like something in his chest was expanding to be something too big for his body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy really wanted this too. Malfoy wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Malfoy repeated, a teasing - but mostly shy - grin on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...I don’t know what to do or say now,” Harry admitted, chuckling. He could feel his cheeks burning and his heart hammering away as he looked at Malfoy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me neither,” Malfoy said, leaning forward. “But we can start with-” His eyes darted to something over Harry’s shoulder, and he groaned, pulling back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry turned around in time to see Narcissa shut the curtain through the window. Laughing, he faced Malfoy again. “Do you wanna go somewhere your mother can’t spy on us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy snickered. “Yeah, yeah. I’d like that. Let’s go for a walk?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a smirk, Harry stood up with his hand still holding Malfoy’s. “I got a better idea,” he said, tugging Malfoy up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy hoisted himself up with Harry’s help, looking confused. “The look on your face is scaring me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry jerked his head toward the direction of the street, and Malfoy’s eyes followed, widening as they landed on Harry’s bike.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, no, I don’t fancy you</span>
  <em>
    <span> that</span>
  </em>
  <span> much,” Malfoy whined with a horrified expression on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was supposed to be a joking dig at him, but Harry couldn’t help but smile at the explicit verbal confirmation. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Malfoy wanted him. Malfoy wanted him. Malfoy wanted him. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Come on. It’s really not that scary.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can just Apparate anywhere!” Malfoy countered. “Or, you know, literally walk a couple of blocks away.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ignoring Malfoy’s protests, Harry started walking backwards towards the bike and pulling Malfoy along with him. “Where’s the fun in that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No. </span>
  </em>
  <span>There’s no way I’m getting on that thing,” Malfoy insisted, even as he took the helmet Harry was offering him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Put that on.” Harry let go of Malfoy’s hand to crouch down and open up one of the few hidden compartments with extension charms that he hadn’t made Arthur get rid of. He pulled out his spare helmet and leather riding jacket, putting them on before standing up and turning to Malfoy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry grinned as he sat that Malfoy had put his helmet on. Seeing him in it and in his leather jacket was doing things to his heart he was glad he no longer had to hide. “See? You already look like you’re in your element.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, piss off, Potter,” Malfoy mumbled. Harry couldn’t see most of his face because of the helmet, but the smile reached his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry laughed as he got on the bike, put the kickstand up, and got the engine running. He turned to Malfoy, who was still standing on the sidewalk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to be the death of me,” Malfoy said. There was no bite to it. It almost sounded fond. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Reckon we’ve known that since we were eleven,” Harry retorted. “Yet here we are.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy snorted at that. “Fair.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry held out his hand. “Well?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t believe I’m doing this.” Malfoy took Harry’s hand, gripping hard to maintain balance as he climbed on and swung his leg over it, shifting around until he got settled. “I’m already bloody terrified.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry is really only half-listening, focusing too much on how Malfoy’s chest pressed against his back and how his legs bracketed Harry’s hips from behind. His heart was in his throat. “...You should hold on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Er...My waist would be the most secure option.” He was aiming for casual and definitely missed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Right.” Malfoy’s arms reached around Harry’s waist, his hands clasped together on Harry’s abdomen. “Like this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah.” Harry was starting to feel less smug about this whole thing, but the nerves couldn’t outweigh the thrill of having Malfoy this close, wrapped around him. “Don’t fidget or shift around too much, and always lean in the direction I’m going, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt Malfoy nod. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright then.” Harry did a last check to make sure Malfoy’s feet were on the passenger foot pegs. “Okay. I can probably still hear you when we’re going because the streets are pretty quiet and empty, but just in case, if you need me to stop, just pat me on the chest. Got it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And one last thing,” Harry said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t hate me after this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He said it mostly to get a laugh out of Malfoy to help him calm down a little, and it worked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No promises, Potter.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry snickered. “Figures. Well, here we go,” he said, pulling on the clutch lever and shifting to first gear. “Hold on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I need reminding because I have a death wish and plan on letting go as soon as you-” His sarcastic comment dissolved into a yelp as Harry slowly eased up on the clutch and the bike started to pitch forward. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry laughed as they gained speed on the road, making sure to focus on the ride instead of the way Malfoy’s arms squeezed tighter around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up!” Malfoy yelled loud enough for Harry to hear over the engine and the wind billowing past them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine! We’re safe!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could hear Malfoy grumble something behind him, but he couldn’t quite make it out. Harry smiled to himself in amusement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry wasn’t really sure where they were supposed to be going, but he didn’t care. He always liked going on rides, but this one was proving to be one of his favorites. There weren’t a lot of cars on the road, the smooth momentum of the bike was calming, and he’s got a boy he’s completely gone for clinging to him. He could wander around these streets like this all night if he had to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few minutes in, he could feel Malfoy relax behind him, his hold on Harry only tightening the tiniest bit during the sharper turns. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Feeling better?” he called over his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy chuckled. “Yeah.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Told you it would be fun!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry could hear the grin in his voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They kept driving around the neighborhood with Malfoy occasionally complaining (“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Must </span>
  </em>
  <span>you turn so fast!”) or commenting on places they’d pass by. Harry just hummed and laughed along, listening to him talk as he reveled in the comfort and security of Malfoy’s arms around his waist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they pulled into a street lined with just residential buildings and no lights coming from any of the windows - the area was only lit up by the streetlamps - Harry felt Malfoy pat at his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry slowed to a stop, planting his left foot on the pavement. Once he killed the engine, he put the kickstand down and motioned for Malfoy to get off. As soon as Malfoy was off the bike on the sidewalk, he followed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry took his helmet off and shook out his hair, running his hands through the curls. They put their helmets on the seat of the bike.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned to Malfoy, smirking. “So?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy made a show of rolling his eyes. “That was your idea of stress relief? I didn’t survive a war just to die on that thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry scoffed. “You’re so dramatic. You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The faux exasperation disappeared from Malfoy’s face as he bit back a smile. “Maybe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re such a prick,” Harry murmured as he stepped forward, closing the distance between him and Malfoy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy’s retort seemed to catch in his throat at the sudden proximity, and the thought of that made Harry’s heart flutter even more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like it like that,” Malfoy suddenly said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry furrowed his brow. “Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, er...</span>
  <em>
    <span>This</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Malfoy punctuated it by bringing his hands to Harry’s face, brushing a thumb against his stubble. Harry usually had to shave every day, but the past few days, his mind had been too preoccupied for him to remember. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry’s first instinct was to force out a laugh. Or crack a joke. Or anything that would make it less obvious how desperately he wanted Malfoy now that they were alone. Now that this thing between them was much more tangible, real.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he didn’t. Feeling bold, he pressed his cheek into one of Malfoy’s palms instead, still holding his gaze. Like a challenge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Potter, I…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry could hear the hitch in his breath. It terrified and excited him at the same time. “Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart was a rampage in his chest at this point, but Harry couldn’t help but savor this moment. Savor him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The light of the streetlamp illuminated Malfoy in a way that Harry felt should be framed and put up in a museum wall. Skin vibrant in the yellow glow of the street lights, eyes bright, and shadows sculpting his face immaculately. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The last time we saw each other...I regret walking out that day. I regret not...You know,” Malfoy whispered, his hands dropping to rest on Harry’s chest. He took a breath, and, in one exhale, said, “I think you should try again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Try what again?” Harry tried to say smugly even though he was sure Malfoy could hear the shake and want in his voice anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what I mean, you arsehole,” he mumbled, obviously trying to glare at Harry but his expression just looked so fond. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry realized this is the look Malfoy had been giving him for months now. He smiled. “Do I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rolling his eyes, Malfoy leaned closer. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry grinned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their faces now just an inch apart, it was difficult for Harry to get a full view of an image he felt like he could have kept on drinking in forever. This close, Malfoy’s face was just a blur he could only focus on one part at a time. His long eyelashes. The dip below his cheekbones. His lips, slightly parted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Harry could pick a favorite part, he curled his fingers underneath Malfoy’s chin, tilting his face forward ever so slightly, and kissed him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy made a surprised noise that ultimately died in his throat before he melted into it, clutching at the front of Harry’s jacket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The way their lips collided was so soft and delicate and </span>
  <em>
    <span>right </span>
  </em>
  <span>that Harry’s eyes fluttered to a close, his hands sliding down to grip Malfoy by the waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they pulled away a little, Malfoy’s eyes were blown wide. “Wow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Harry managed, a breathless half-laugh following it. Harry’s face almost hurt from how big he was smiling, the attempt to calm his heart down a lost cause that was taunting him from inside his ribs. He felt like he was on fire. In the best way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he wanted to tell Malfoy that, but before he could find the words, they moved in unison, their lips meeting again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy let out a gentle, pleased whine as Harry pressed his mouth against his harder, and Harry could have sworn he was going to die right there. They broke off for a couple of seconds, but their mouths were together again before they could even catch a proper breath. Harry nudged Malfoy’s lips open, and carefully slid his tongue in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” Malfoy moaned into the kiss, arms now thrown around Harry’s neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry tried to think of the last time that his heart felt this raw, and good, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but ultimately became too distracted as the tip of Malfoy’s tongue grazed the roof of his mouth. “Fuck,” he breathed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How long has snogging felt like this? Has snogging always felt like this? He didn’t want to stop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he kissed, and kissed, and kissed, and got kissed back, Harry tightened his hold on Malfoy’s waist and walked him a couple steps backwards until his back hit the lamppost. Harry pinned him there and deepened the kiss, his hands now roaming and slipping underneath Malfoy’s jumper and shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the contact of skin, Malfoy gasped against his mouth, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Harry.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry’s hands stilled, and he pulled away slightly, smirking. “Oh, it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>Harry</span>
  </em>
  <span> now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still breathing hard, Malfoy unwrapped his arms from Harry to give him a shove, which didn’t do much with Harry’s hands firmly on his waist. “You are so insufferable!” he laughed out before placing a hand on the back of Harry’s neck to pull him closer again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry chuckled. “So are you,” he mumbled and gave him a peck on the lips one more time, every part of him singing, before resting his forehead against Malfoy’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should...We should stop before people see us,” Malfoy whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Yeah.” Finally sobering up from the frenzy that was Draco Malfoy’s mouth and suddenly conscious that someone could be still watching from the dark windows that lined the street, Harry let go and stepped back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he did, he got a good look at Malfoy. Eyes dazed, face flushed, and lips shiny. He smiled, thinking of how much he wanted to keep kissing him. He put his hands in his pockets, mostly because he didn’t trust himself to grab him and do so. “Do you... We could go back to my place?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry tried to make it sound as nonchalant as he could. He probably didn’t succeed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy bit his lip. “I…Merlin, you know I want to,” he started, huffing a little. “But my mother’s having a pretty off night, and I don’t want her to be alone back at the house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Right, right, of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” Malfoy stepped closer again, taking Harry’s hands in his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, it’s alright. Of course, I understand. I just really wanted to…” he trailed off, blood rushing to his cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy nodded, smiling a little and looking at him through hooded eyes. “Merlin, me too…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry’s breath started to get heavy again at that, reminding himself that they were still in plain sight even in the dead of the night to stop himself from losing control and pinning Malfoy back against the lamppost again. “It’s fine. Tomorrow, after work, we’ll have all the time to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To go to Andromeda’s party?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry groaned, tilting his head back in frustration. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Jesus.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Right. I forgot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After,” Malfoy whispered like a promise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry nodded. “Alright. After.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malfoy smiled. “Now, can you take me home before my mother thinks you kidnapped me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On my bike?” Harry asked, raising a brow. “No longer pretending you don’t like it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugged. “Well, I don’t mind the holding onto you part.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Knew it,” Harry said, bringing one of Malfoy’s hands up to his lips and kissing his knuckles, not breaking eye contact with a smitten Malfoy. “Come on. Let’s go.” </span>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<span>After getting off the bike, Malfoy handed Harry the helmet he wore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll see you tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still perched on his bike with his helmet on, Harry nodded. “See you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reached out to squeeze Harry’s hand, which was wrapped around the bike handlebar, once. “Goodnight, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Harry</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry beamed. “Goodnight...</span>
  <em>
    <span>Draco.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chuckling, Malfoy - Draco - looked around to check if anyone was watching before planting a kiss on Harry’s nose, the only thing his lips could reach with Harry still wearing his helmet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry could feel his unrelenting heart act up again, smiling dumbly as he watched the boy he couldn’t wait to kiss again enter the house.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>- motorbike rides? kisses in the middle of the night? a promise of more the next time they meet? this is the chapter i imagined vividly for weeks before giving in and deciding to write this fic im ngl. love these dumb boys. took them a while but here we are :')<br/>- "THEY KISSED AND EVERYTHING IS PERFECT AND HAPPY NOW" um....uh... well! let's see! like i said we a lot of chapters left!<br/>- as always ty so much for all the motivation via ur comments and kudos!!!!!! u guys are mvps im honestly so thankful.<br/>- talk to me abt the fic or just hp in general/yell at me to update when it's been too long/etc etc on tumblr! im @ginnywcasleys :)</p><p>ALSO the world is still fuckn crazy right now i know but i still hope you all find some semblance of peace/joy/comfort/celebration/etc etc in your lives this last stretch of 2020. ty for keeping me company this year by reading this fic that i started bc i was going insane in quarantine lmao. next update will probably be sometime in january (no i cant believe it's going to be 2021 already either jesus christ) but until then, be kind to yourselves and happy holidays ily all &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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